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The same rose, still ablaze scorching red,  
A ****** from realms yet untread,  
That unfolds upon the ancient, earthen bed—  
But heed the thorn; this way one cannot tread.

Every morning the nightingale sings her song,  
Leaps into melody, ere the day grows long.  
Down the moon’s open eye, once strong,  
To unlock the door, one must belong.

In the quietude, beneath the moon’s aged grace,  
Maybe lies a key forged in shadow,
The sun slides down, lights a candle at a silent pace.  
Who claims this boon, who dares to embrace,  
Must know the rose’s fire, the nightingale’s chase.
Zywa 3d
The beach would be great

if it did not shine so much --


from the blazing sun.
Poem "The Walrus and the Carpenter" in the children's book "Through the Looking-Glass", chapter 4 (1871, Lewis Carroll)

Collection "Here &Now&"
Winter’s releasing us from its perpetually gray and gloomy grip.

Who can study in their room, on a beautiful spring afternoon?
Azaleas assail ya, with champagne petals of bubblegum fuchsias,
they blush in near neon reflection, with a mathematical, fractal perfection.

Courtyards that were once dark and uninviting, frosty scenes,
sport impromptu manicured carpets, of flawless, vibrant greens.

Dogwoods explode, abruptly overnight, with cherry blossom whites
they blush like brides on parade, they sachet, swaying flag-like bouquets.

Ordinary maples become emerald queens by unfurling avocado, hunter and chartreuse leaves,
accented with vibrant electric limes and honeydews, as if to say, ‘We too can please.’

New life stretches, almost yawning, in the seemingly reborn sun, insects hum as they cultivate,
birds flit excitedly, as if to say,  ‘Why’re you inside? Come out and play - why do you even hesitate?’

I know there’s something in spring that’s irresistible, pheromonal, hormonal, surfeit and emotional.
Is it the solar zenith angle or the sun’s declination that produces these delightful inclinations?
.
.

Songs for this:
Funky Galileo by Sure sure
You get what you give by New Radicals
New World Coming by Cass Elliot
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge: Surfeit: too much, excess, more than you need.
The sun shall hide soon
Beauty as my moon pie shines
Eclipse of my heart
Zywa Apr 7
A person must learn,

there are no suns anywhere --


that don't cast shadows.
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 3-7 "Abracadabra": We must live, I'm afraid, with the shadows of imperfection

Collection "Low gear"
Zywa Apr 6
An imperfection

is a shadow in your life --


with thanks to the sun.
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 3-7 "Abracadabra": We must live, I'm afraid, with the shadows of imperfection

Collection "Low gear"
Mrs Timetable Mar 19
The sun was so blind
Can't see in front
Of me
Good thing
Morndreaming
Exists
I missed my turn
And still you made it
Into my heart
I made a new word. Daydreaming while driving  in the early morning
Isaace Mar 18
Not the heart that beats in the heat of desert milk!
Not the milk that duplicates and does not sink into searing sand!
Please!
I see it now!
The Pale Sun rising above Klee Temple— inspired by lines of dread.
The maddening has begun!
We shall rendezvous with the camel spiders, those who pince at the moon in chambers of the dead.
Don't be a prisoner of your past
Like a fallen yellow leaf
With no song, no fire

Be like the enchanting nature
That celebrates life with
The new dawn, new sun rise
Birds melodies, blue skies
Smiling flowers, green grass
Fresh air, dancing butterflies
Twinkling stars
And evolving moon

Hussein Dekmak
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