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Walk then,
touch the silent acres,
dew pond wet
with shining grass unbroken,
a day still new,
wrapped in promise newly woken,
bare feet make the morning
Tuscany
Sarah Lane Jan 2021
The world rushes by through my window
I try to capture each glimpse in my mind
How can I save the small wonders I know
If the scenes come just as quick as they go

I watch it all pass in the distance
Wanting to spare these memories for you
But futility holds with resistance
And those things slip away in an instant

What is it worth if I can't have you here?
Beauty is dull and amazements are cheap
Nothing can matter when my heart isn't near
I'd trade all these sights for you to appear
I wrote this for my husband on a bus ride through Italy while touring without him for a series of ballet gala performances.
Mark C Apr 2019
when the Tuscan sunlight trickled through the blinds,
pouring gold specks into the room
and your light hums reverberated into my ear
as we laid in tangled sheets
it dawned on me that
home was never a place —
home was a person.
this is it, i thought
this is home.
day #8: a love poem

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