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"soared" poems
If I was a mountain That soared towards the sky, With craggy snow caps And stormy grey eyes- Then you'd be the clouds That swaddled my peak, That silenced my thunder When I tried to speak. If I was the earth The desert, in fact: With arid dry soil And mud, baked and cracked- You'd be the rain The downpour that soothed; The balm to my bruises, Relief to my wounds. If I was the Moon In the indigo night, With stars as my blanket And silver; my light- Well you'd be the Sun Just always behind That lent me your glow And caused me to shine.
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Metaphors
on your last day the sun was shining and big white clouds ran across the sky someone held you tight and told you, "i love you" admired you and cherished you on your last day all of your love poured out you inspired and you soared you lived and you died your love remains always
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Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 6:28 AM UTC
your last day
"And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest." The earth was green, the sky was blue: I saw and heard one sunny morn A skylark hang between the two, A singing speck above the corn; A stage below, in gay accord, White butterflies danced on the wing, And still the singing skylark soared And silent sank, and soared to sing. The cornfield stretched a tender green To right and left beside my walks; I knew he had a nest unseen Somewhere among the million stalks: And as I paused to hear his song While swift the sunny moments slid, Perhaps his mate sat listening long, And listened longer than I did.
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16.1k
A Green Cornfield
"I'm a mermaid," she said as she kissed me. Ah! her kiss made me drunker than wine. I'd been longing for the ocean in her blue eyes, it was calling to the diver in mine. She whispered, "I've got just a little bit of magic from my home in this big blue lagoon-- join me tonight for a swim in the moonlight, I'll make some magic for you." The full moon was rising in Paradise as I made my way down to the shore. There I dove right into the water, I just couldn't stand it anymore. Here she comes, swimming up to meet me-- wraps her self around me like a glove. As long as I live I never could tell the magic of a mermaid in love. Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, sharing your mysteries with me. When I'm with you I can breathe underwater and swim beside you under the sea. If I could stay here under the surface, I would never go back to dry land! Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, Meet me here whenever you can. The spell would be broken by sunrise, but her "little bit of magic" was no lie. We soared, freed by love, underwater, free as two birds in the sky. All too soon the sky began lightening, the moon and the stars took their flight. Our kisses were mingled with tears at the shoreline where we promised to meet every night. Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, sharing your mysteries with me. When I'm with you I can breathe underwater, and swim beside you under the sea. If I could stay here under the surface, I would never go back to dry land! Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, make me a real merman.
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Nov 11, 2010
Nov 11, 2010 at 7:13 PM UTC
The Mermaid
"I'm a mermaid," she said as she kissed me. Ah! her kiss made me drunker than wine. I'd been longing for the ocean in her blue eyes, it was calling to the diver in mine. She whispered, "I've got just a little bit of magic from my home in this big blue lagoon-- join me tonight for a swim in the moonlight, I'll make some magic for you." The full moon was rising in Paradise as I made my way down to the shore. There I dove right into the water, I just couldn't stand it anymore. Here she comes, swimming up to meet me-- wraps her self around me like a glove. As long as I live I never could tell the magic of a mermaid in love. Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, sharing your mysteries with me. When I'm with you I can breathe underwater and swim beside you under the sea. If I could stay here under the surface, I would never go back to dry land! Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, Meet me here whenever you can. The spell would be broken by sunrise, but her "little bit of magic" was no lie. We soared, freed by love, underwater, free as two birds in the sky. All too soon the sky began lightening, the moon and the stars took their flight. Our kisses were mingled with tears at the shoreline where we promised to meet every night. Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, sharing your mysteries with me. When I'm with you I can breathe underwater, and swim beside you under the sea. If I could stay here under the surface, I would never go back to dry land! Goddess of the crystal blue ocean, make me a real merman.
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How is it that I never saw your wings when you were here with me? When you closed your eyes and soared to the Heavens I could hear the faint flutter of you wings as you left. Your body no longer on this side your spirit here eternally I see your halo shine. I close my eyes and see the multicolored wings surround me in my saddest moments and my happiest times. Mother my angel God has given you your assignment always my mother forever my angel. You fly into my dreams and when I am asleep I feel your wings brush against my face wiping away the tears I shed since I can no longer hold you in my arms but in my heart. You earned those wings dear mother and you will always be me angel eternal.
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
I Never Saw Your Wings
Perched quietly in the shadows of the night, Observing completely, using all her might, Untouched the landscape sat; she breathed a sigh, She leapt and began to fly She soared through the trees, dark and murky, Weaving in and out, the ride a little jerky, Until she reached the clearing, blooming and sprouting, Where she landed and began scouting She spotted a baby, small and alone, Hungry and confused, wanting to be shown, Flying over to the area in which it sat, She pulled some wisdom from her hat Unmoving and silent, she sat as an example, Showing her apprentice just a little sample, Teaching patience and perseverance was first on the list, She didn’t quit until it got the gist Next thing she knew, her student was growing, In no time, it was the one doing all the showing, She took a step back, gazing proudly at her work, While the child continued doing all the groundwork Rays peaked out across the horizon in all hues, Most of which consisted of reds and blues, She looked at the child, beckoning it to fly on home, Although she longed to stay and roam As the sun rose, slow and bright, She decided to turn and take off in flight, Twisting and turning through trees and brush, She flew on quickly, as if in a rush She spotted it then, modest and small, The place she longed to go most of all, Adventures are fun and she liked to roam, But there’s definitely no place quite like home.
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Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
Wise Quiet One
Dear Cute Boy At The Party, It was nice meeting you. Again. I bet you didn’t know you were the first person I ever flirted with. I bet you didn’t know I prepped for this date for a week. I bet you didn’t know how much my heart soared when you asked me out. Thank you for telling me that I have a cute laugh. Thank you for telling me how much you wanted to see me again before I even left. Thank you for walking me back to the station. It was nice talking to you. I know when you complained about the chair, it was just an excuse to sit next to me. I know you want L to like you back. I know you deserve someone who treats you better. It was nice that you finally messaged me, a week after the party. But I bet you didn’t know how quickly I accepted the fact I’d never see you again. That I’ve already wrote you two poems and that I’m sat listening to the songs you recommended to me. Thank you for making me realise that the right guy will come along, but not right away. I thought I’d just be that girl at the party who’s name you can’t remember, or face you can’t place, but I was wrong.   It was nice meeting you. I‘m excited to see you again next week. — p.d.e
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Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
Part.II
Lonely thorns, Have caressed me, And pierced me. With extended arms, They reached out, Felt me beneath the skin, And felt the agony. Then they bloomed, Sparkling flowers, Gifting me, A bouquet of joy. Watching me smile, They rejoiced, Danced around, And I danced along. The million arms, Dug into me; And my heart soared, Reaching out, Every pore, Till I was, A loving being, And they, Were the thorny me.
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 1:05 AM UTC
A Thorny Love Affair
We find multiple ways to disconnect Where business and technology intersect We kick one another for cash When we need equilibrium for our economy Our morals disintegrate to ash And we trade away our autonomy But we don't dare reflect Instead we disconnect We turn people into symbols and numbers So we can more comfortably slumber After causing heartbreaking pain Through bureaucratic chains Because face to face Our heart will race And we'll examine our submerged morals That lie in the depths with the coral But our reflection is too much to bear So we cowardly choose not to care The only way we can feel ecstatic Is to turn people into demographics The Internet connects us But also satisfies lust And imitates human contact Which has a negative impact The feeling leaves us sated And we don't feel the need to change Our armor becomes plated And we shoot arrows from long range Because we don't like the idea of being one another We get used to the idea of not seeing one another We disconnect so we don't have to try We disconnect so we can slowly die The ****** disconnection continues As we find more violent avenues We utilize fatal instruments To ****** without the sense Of physically feeling The life we're stealing We stabbed one another with swords Until the bullets soared But we still needed more So we disconnected further And became satellite searchers Studying people through actions Defining them by faction We don't have any interest in their personality or flaws All we're concerned with is if they're breaking the law The law we wrote to tip the scales The law that makes us too big to fail A husband leaves his wife Disconnecting from her life She's left with a child To raise in the wild Until a drone drops a bomb On the struggling single mom She's not an investor So we'll just harvest her worthless life Who'll be her protector When she's near someone we don't like? We **** her from our computer That's the way we casually mute her We carefully cultivated a disconnect To treat one another like insects This mentality will infect Until we interject Once we finally reflect Love will connect
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Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 6:09 AM UTC
Disconnect
We find multiple ways to disconnect Where business and technology intersect We kick one another for cash When we need equilibrium for our economy Our morals disintegrate to ash And we trade away our autonomy But we don't dare reflect Instead we disconnect We turn people into symbols and numbers So we can more comfortably slumber After causing heartbreaking pain Through bureaucratic chains Because face to face Our heart will race And we'll examine our submerged morals That lie in the depths with the coral But our reflection is too much to bear So we cowardly choose not to care The only way we can feel ecstatic Is to turn people into demographics The Internet connects us But also satisfies lust And imitates human contact Which has a negative impact The feeling leaves us sated And we don't feel the need to change Our armor becomes plated And we shoot arrows from long range Because we don't like the idea of being one another We get used to the idea of not seeing one another We disconnect so we don't have to try We disconnect so we can slowly die The ****** disconnection continues As we find more violent avenues We utilize fatal instruments To ****** without the sense Of physically feeling The life we're stealing We stabbed one another with swords Until the bullets soared But we still needed more So we disconnected further And became satellite searchers Studying people through actions Defining them by faction We don't have any interest in their personality or flaws All we're concerned with is if they're breaking the law The law we wrote to tip the scales The law that makes us too big to fail A husband leaves his wife Disconnecting from her life She's left with a child To raise in the wild Until a drone drops a bomb On the struggling single mom She's not an investor So we'll just harvest her worthless life Who'll be her protector When she's near someone we don't like? We **** her from our computer That's the way we casually mute her We carefully cultivated a disconnect To treat one another like insects This mentality will infect Until we interject Once we finally reflect Love will connect
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From the heavenly embers the phoenix rises. It opened its scarlet eyes and saw the world blanketed in darkness. Its cries reverberating in the dim valley, paternal love it sought. Woe is the phoenix for not a creature came and all it did was for naught. With tears in its eyes till sunrise it waited. Filled with indignation the phoenix flew. For it realized that as a newborn it was cheated. With only the support of itself the phoenix grew. Time passed peacefully in the valley. The phoenix' wings have now grown fully. Then the phoenix’ adventurous spirit was suddenly ignited. With newfound courage the phoenix soared, clearly it is excited. It was fearful yet ecstatic for the world full of the unknown. The phoenix said farewell to the place it once had grown. It desired to wander the world hoping to meet with its kin. The phoenix is very lonely and hoping for one’s happiness isn’t a sin. Many beasts quickly hid when they saw the phoenix near. When they saw the flames blazing they can only shiver in fear Sighing with regret for it wants to make a friend. But fate has been cruel and fear was its desire’s end. It traversed thousand of mountains And experienced countless rains It hoped and prayed fervently to the glorious entity above To grant its wish, to experience love To be continued...
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 2:12 AM UTC
"Ode to the Phoenix (I)"
Dad made a kite Out of paper and wood And a white, ripped up sheet for a tail. We all watched with wonder when without any wind He could make his kite rise up and sail! The trick, he would tell us Is to run just a bit, then let the string play out just so. There is wind up above us that you cannot see It will make the kite rise up and go. Up went his kite High up over the trees And soon it was up with clouds. It dipped, skipped and twirled as he tightened his rein “It’s DANCING!” we shouted out loud! The kite, he would tell us Responds to your touch, don’t hold it too loose or too tight. Be forgiving, yet firm, let it fly by itself And most times it will turn out all right. Dad gave the kite To the youngest child there, And the rest of us waited our turn. The kite soared, then collapsed; our confidence too Dad taught; we attempted to learn. Life, he would tell us Is like flying a kite, you hold on but you cannot control. Don’t let a failure or lack of success Stop you from reaching your goal. Be like the kite Reach as high as you can Set your goals high, and dance with the clouds! Respect and remember the wind you can’t see. It’s your Faith that will make others proud. Faith, he would tell us Is the courage to fly, and belief in a Presence unseen. But most of all Faith is the strength to go on When your kite gets stuck high in a tree. PwL 3/30/15
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
Kite
My neck is a nest The warmth in it an ever present creature that Oscillates and breeds and collects And attracts creatures that do not My neck is a nest That doesn't just need to nurture but To be nurtured and Touched and kissed and electrified In order to keep that warmth My neck is a nest That rests on an unsteady beating branch And hangs under a filament-ridden sky Neither of which can ever agree But to disagree on whether Niceness or smoothness or alcohol or hidden agendas Should have anything to do with How the warmth is kept My neck is a nest Full of hatchlings that have already Dropped and soared Dropped and stopped Dropped and swooped at the last second Where they are now I have only an inkling. My neck is a nest That wishes to blend with the Twigs and leaves and eggshells That become it and Be humbly content with who It wants to attract and collect and warm.
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
My Neck is a Nest
By walking between certain trees, Sometimes, one has an odd feeling, An unusual tingling sensation, Not scary, but mostly appealing. Katalyn passed between two elms, And entered into ancient realms. Excitement prickled Katalyn’s skin, Trees here were wide and tall, Then from a sun-splashed clearing, There came a strange animal call. Creeping closely; peering round a tree, Katalyn saw unicorns, roaming free. Approaching slowly, heart beating fast, Katalyn could not help but smile, As the unicorns gathered round, What grace, such poise, cool style. Not thinking, Katalyn touched a wing, There came a whoosh . . . so dizzying. Without knowing, how or why, Katalyn soared above the trees, Holding a slender unicorn neck, Laughter escaping on the breeze. They dropped into a sudden glide, With a thrilling rush: what a ride! They winged across grassy plains, Between mountains capped with snow, Katalyn neither knew nor recognised, The wild land, passing by, below. Another world; another dimension, Kept secret by; magical intention. Then Katalyn was suddenly walking, Back where the adventure began, Passing between two old elms, Returned to the world of man. Now feeling as happy, as you please, Knowing unicorns lived, beyond the trees. © Paul M Chafer 2014
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
Unicorn Paradise
You held me in place with that commanding look writhing under your gaze unable to look away from the piercing sight and afraid to disobey any order If it was uttered from your lips my heart would have soared, stretched, and broken to be praised by your words or tenderly touched with your rough hands I could feel your hand on my neck squeezing slowly until the blood started pounding my pain was your pleasure and your pleasure was my purpose Little did I know that you would be squeezing too strongly the ropes were too tight around my waist the collar choking my neck no amount of clawing would have made you let go so I went limp with my love A submissive gives trust yields to whoever they believe is worthy submitting more than their body but their very essence A dominant is supposed to wield that trust to protect and realize the significance of it not squeeze and suffocate it pretending that lies warrant trust in return I could not have been enough for your demands and you broke the trust I gingerly placed in your hands Take your bonds and pretend to wrap them around someone else my being can take no more of your bruising
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
Broken Bonds
Her silver wings dipped in gold soared through our hearts couragion bold Purified election supple selection I am the piece you nuzzle to complete the puzzle Lost and lonely the sun's warning Pluto's cobalt seas Uranus storming Beyond the horizon Beyond 4g of Verizon Astral forming She's the morning
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May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
Her Silver Wings
So I’m marrying this young girl, see, it’s the second time round. My first wife died and I’ve been struggling and drowning. So I'm clutching the life raft of this girl who is beautiful and young, who’s romantic and sure of her ground, and she and her family believe that I can breathe and survive again. Me?  Can I remember how to be gentle and kind to them? It was luck. I was lucky before. Because now I'm a veteran of the thousand campaigns and I’ve bayed at the moon, see, then I hunted with The Beast. And anyway, my first wife and I ********* her name is Lorayne!) suffered, and then suffocated before our love soared so high. Then we danced like fireflies, fabulously, until the future ended forever. So how can this new girl find ecstasy with me and, and, you know, live happily ever after, which is such an impossible dream, and how can I handle all this ******* purity and innocence and beauty and youth and flawless skin and fairy tale stuff when I’m so gnarled and twisted and knotted? You see, I'm actually deeply ashamed. In spite of my much vaunted campaigns, I'm really a coward. I'm afraid I can't drag myself back and do this again. Can we possibly become fireflies and dance in the flame? Yes, yes, I know. We'll swear to love and to honor and to obey in sickness and in health in richness and in poorness until death do us part. Though this formula's too cute. It doesn't mention the pain. But there's no other option. I must try to rise up again, and alright, once more, I'll call on the flame. So I'll cast out my demons and force them away. Somehow, I'll hold those monsters at bay to give you the light and the love you say is still there, everywhere. You are wide-eyed and oh, so naive. But I desperately want to believe you. I need you. Oh god, I hope we can love without fear. Mike T Minehan
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Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 10:28 PM UTC
So I'm Marrying this Young Girl, See
So I’m marrying this young girl, see, it’s the second time round. My first wife died and I’ve been struggling and drowning. So I'm clutching the life raft of this girl who is beautiful and young, who’s romantic and sure of her ground, and she and her family believe that I can breathe and survive again. Me?  Can I remember how to be gentle and kind to them? It was luck. I was lucky before. Because now I'm a veteran of the thousand campaigns and I’ve bayed at the moon, see, then I hunted with The Beast. And anyway, my first wife and I ********* her name is Lorayne!) suffered, and then suffocated before our love soared so high. Then we danced like fireflies, fabulously, until the future ended forever. So how can this new girl find ecstasy with me and, and, you know, live happily ever after, which is such an impossible dream, and how can I handle all this ******* purity and innocence and beauty and youth and flawless skin and fairy tale stuff when I’m so gnarled and twisted and knotted? You see, I'm actually deeply ashamed. In spite of my much vaunted campaigns, I'm really a coward. I'm afraid I can't drag myself back and do this again. Can we possibly become fireflies and dance in the flame? Yes, yes, I know. We'll swear to love and to honor and to obey in sickness and in health in richness and in poorness until death do us part. Though this formula's too cute. It doesn't mention the pain. But there's no other option. I must try to rise up again, and alright, once more, I'll call on the flame. So I'll cast out my demons and force them away. Somehow, I'll hold those monsters at bay to give you the light and the love you say is still there, everywhere. You are wide-eyed and oh, so naive. But I desperately want to believe you. I need you. Oh god, I hope we can love without fear. Mike T Minehan
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She has a way of tormenting you In every direction you try take She gives you a curfew Hoping, probing, that you, too, slip through the cracks. I wanted to be a astronaut To explore the universe To find my destiny Through the black hole And out Spaghettified or not When my now cuffed-mind Soared the air With wings dispersed in the wind Still when she didn't care And thought I was harmless She tried shooting me down And got one through a wing Now I think I want to be an accountant Mediocre and sane But who wants to have sanity When you can be in it? So I crashed into Hyperion And as high as I am She still sends her vicious winds To try and cut me down But her torment crafts precious stones So in the interim I'll hold on Hoping that I can un-cuff my mind Keeping a birds-eye view Like a leopard waiting for its **** So that one day I can glide the universe Wings distributed out wide Skillful and experienced So she can never shoot me down Now Perched on Hyperion Patient and vigilant I wait
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Society
'yo be my partner' you extended your partnership i accepted it gracefully we slammed the competition tossed the shuttlecock back-and-forth, back-and-forth everyone was in shock oh how that tiny shuttlecock soared okay, let's be a little realistic... 0-3 was our score we lost in pride and in demise   at least i could dream we were kind of good
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Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
A Tale of a Game of Badminton
Gather 'round children To hear the story of Obsessionman Our extremely watchful protector Bitten by a radioactive trumpeter at a young age He obtained the super power Of constantly thinking about the moment he was bitten His power only grew stronger with time When people told him his power was **** His power grew When people mentioned the toxicity of his radioactive waste His power grew And when he encountered his arch nemesis; the trumpeter Everything grew You should've seen how fast he flew He soared quicker than All the ******** he had once considered important But when flying at such high velocities Civilians become interlopers And interlopers become super villains Which is no laughing matter Aquaman went comatose And Comaman got aqua toes Sacrifices we were willing to make But then God intervened And Obsessionman ***** Him Which we all agreed was kind of ****** up Decidedly so... I mean... What can you say about your hero when he ***** God? But that's the beauty of Obsessionman All he requires from us Is our disgust, indifference, and hatred To feed his strength Until the day he is powerful enough To fulfill his destiny And face his arch nemesis The trumpeter
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May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
Obsession
The wind kissed my face As you kissed my hand The sun couldn’t hold a candle To your bright smile I bowed my head And gazed upon the hidden secrets That the flowers held between their petals Together we danced In our hidden world Across the meadow My love soared I wrapped my arms around your neck And rested my head This was a night I wouldn’t want to forget Every time we left this wonderful place Our love stayed within it Hidden in the crevices of each petal I get sad when I think about it Do you dream of that place? The place that was once ours? Oh, oh how I miss that meadow
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
Meadow
there was a little hedgehog of the pilot sort to fly an helicopter was his only thought flying in the sky all along the sea an helicopter pilot he just long to be. he booked some flying lessons at an airport near by so he could get his wings once he learnt to fly. hedgehog past his test now he could fly alone in an helcopter flying on his own now hedgehog he was ready and headed for the sky high above the clouds he began to fly suddenly he saw what looked like a flare flying past his window gave him quite a scare. hedgehog circled round to see what it could be there he saw dinghy floating in the sea. it was his friend the badger he was in distress badger was in trouble and in such a mess. hedgehog he got closer he was very brave and his friend the badger hedghog he would save. he dropped down a line to his little friend badger he grabbed hold and hung on to the end hedgehog pulled him up and pulled his friend aboard then in to the air hedgehog quickly soared he had saved the badger.he was safe once more flew him back to land to the safety of the shore hedghog waved goodbye then he flew away and his still a pilot to this very day
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
helicopter pilot
When first I saw you, you were lying on a green bank laughing at the sky as you watched the clouds scud by and you saw all kinds of shapes in those clouds and gasped in awe as the myriad of birds soared and wheeled through the clouds. Your laugh skipped across the distance between us like magical notes from a faery harp. The sunlight lit up your golden hair making diamonds out of the shafts of sunlight as you turned your head to and fro making the sunbeams dance to your tune. And about your head was a halo of white lilies … When next I saw you you were hand in hand with your love walking into the sunlight from the grey stone church. Your brocade of white entwined with golden thread sparkled like a million gems. Your face was bright and alive with smiling eyes and your golden hair fell down around your face catching the sunbeams. And ringing out their joy, the church bells pealed for you. And in your hand was a bouquet of white lilies … I saw you again on that same green bank laughing with joy as your golden child frolicked in the warm summer sun, her childish laugh mingling with your own in angelic harmony. You grasped her up and, wheeling her skyward, faces upturned, letting the sunbeams play around you and then, holding her close, you sank to your knees cradling the babe, letting the love flow out and around you both. And in the child’s small hand was grasped a single white lily … The next time I saw you you were quietly sitting in the late summer sun comfortable in your chair watching the golden sun flame red as it sank below the distant horizon. Your golden hair now not so vibrant and your face etched with the many years of your long life yet when you smiled at the glory of the setting sun, the sparkle of your eyes was not dimmed at all. And around your feet grew a field of white lilies … The last time I saw you I gave you my hand and, with fingers entwined, we walked away from the sombre crowd whose tears flowed like pearls as the stark white coffin was lowered into the ground. And looking into your face I saw you again as you were that first time, your golden hair that fell as rivulets around your now pale, sad face. I took that face in my hands and gently kissed your lips, no more than a whisper, like a gentle spring breeze teasing the blossoms. Still hand in hand, we looked back at the sad scene and then turned and walked into the light. And all about your grave lay white lilies.
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Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
White Lilies – a gothic love story
When first I saw you, you were lying on a green bank laughing at the sky as you watched the clouds scud by and you saw all kinds of shapes in those clouds and gasped in awe as the myriad of birds soared and wheeled through the clouds. Your laugh skipped across the distance between us like magical notes from a faery harp. The sunlight lit up your golden hair making diamonds out of the shafts of sunlight as you turned your head to and fro making the sunbeams dance to your tune. And about your head was a halo of white lilies … When next I saw you you were hand in hand with your love walking into the sunlight from the grey stone church. Your brocade of white entwined with golden thread sparkled like a million gems. Your face was bright and alive with smiling eyes and your golden hair fell down around your face catching the sunbeams. And ringing out their joy, the church bells pealed for you. And in your hand was a bouquet of white lilies … I saw you again on that same green bank laughing with joy as your golden child frolicked in the warm summer sun, her childish laugh mingling with your own in angelic harmony. You grasped her up and, wheeling her skyward, faces upturned, letting the sunbeams play around you and then, holding her close, you sank to your knees cradling the babe, letting the love flow out and around you both. And in the child’s small hand was grasped a single white lily … The next time I saw you you were quietly sitting in the late summer sun comfortable in your chair watching the golden sun flame red as it sank below the distant horizon. Your golden hair now not so vibrant and your face etched with the many years of your long life yet when you smiled at the glory of the setting sun, the sparkle of your eyes was not dimmed at all. And around your feet grew a field of white lilies … The last time I saw you I gave you my hand and, with fingers entwined, we walked away from the sombre crowd whose tears flowed like pearls as the stark white coffin was lowered into the ground. And looking into your face I saw you again as you were that first time, your golden hair that fell as rivulets around your now pale, sad face. I took that face in my hands and gently kissed your lips, no more than a whisper, like a gentle spring breeze teasing the blossoms. Still hand in hand, we looked back at the sad scene and then turned and walked into the light. And all about your grave lay white lilies.
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Eggs, eggs, toss them high in the air Catch em, and gargle, and mash them, and swear Eat them with shells, eat them with sauce Eat them with bags, eat them with moss Eggs, eggs, between sandwich bread That's what the wise elderly miller had said Before came the bomb and he had dropped dead Before being poisoned by a surplus of lead And then came a centipede, long and sanguine And bit a small child, so recently weaned Off the protein derived from his mother's fine eggs So he had to start munching on his mother's fine legs "Be warned" said the Miller, his hair all askew While dousing his wounds with mountains of glue A tapeworm emerged, and looked toward the sky Feeling envy toward all the birds that could fly But the Miller was quicker, even in old age He smacked the worm soundly, in a manner enraged Bruised from the damage, and covered in glue The worm turned away from the sky that was blue Never with pelicans would he fly with delight Never with owls would he soar through the night For all Darwin's cruelty, an injustice rings Tapeworms simply have no need for wings So he bit the old Miller, and laid ten thousand eggs They hatched and devoured his liver and legs And as the man writhed, waiting to die He vomited upward, up toward the sky The tapeworm went flying, up toward the clouds The air felt exhilarating, the rushing wind loud For once in his life, he soared with the birds Then in came a swallow, and bit off a third His body, segmented, fell in parts to the ground Tears seeped from his eyes, his face in a frown From the ground he gazed up into the ominous fog Before being lapped up by an unlucky dog The End
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Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 1:20 AM UTC
A Pleasant Surprise
Eggs, eggs, toss them high in the air Catch em, and gargle, and mash them, and swear Eat them with shells, eat them with sauce Eat them with bags, eat them with moss Eggs, eggs, between sandwich bread That's what the wise elderly miller had said Before came the bomb and he had dropped dead Before being poisoned by a surplus of lead And then came a centipede, long and sanguine And bit a small child, so recently weaned Off the protein derived from his mother's fine eggs So he had to start munching on his mother's fine legs "Be warned" said the Miller, his hair all askew While dousing his wounds with mountains of glue A tapeworm emerged, and looked toward the sky Feeling envy toward all the birds that could fly But the Miller was quicker, even in old age He smacked the worm soundly, in a manner enraged Bruised from the damage, and covered in glue The worm turned away from the sky that was blue Never with pelicans would he fly with delight Never with owls would he soar through the night For all Darwin's cruelty, an injustice rings Tapeworms simply have no need for wings So he bit the old Miller, and laid ten thousand eggs They hatched and devoured his liver and legs And as the man writhed, waiting to die He vomited upward, up toward the sky The tapeworm went flying, up toward the clouds The air felt exhilarating, the rushing wind loud For once in his life, he soared with the birds Then in came a swallow, and bit off a third His body, segmented, fell in parts to the ground Tears seeped from his eyes, his face in a frown From the ground he gazed up into the ominous fog Before being lapped up by an unlucky dog The End
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*Exquisite honey you were, found only in hives on mountain tops, all five senses and sublime power of cognition sprang alive, took you in deep and let you be there long enough to discern, your dense sweetness sank in, on the wings of wonder I soared, a honeybee in rapture.*
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Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
Exquisite mountain honey and the honeybee questing for it.