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Pre-written Phases Of Swanee Praises

Missing image
I hope that I am never rude,
meaning misconstrued to bare embarrassment,

but I have never seen a yearning
greater than the one now burning,

morning soul, feathering friendship
in kinship gripping golden glance
to smile as summer.


There is wind to breathe,

recycled breath,
where I spoke hope
when night was lonely,

friend to soothe in aspiration
of inspiration flowing lips
in prairie sips, forever smiling;

our lines to mingle mind in syllabic tingle,
lingering love,
as artful weather.


I could never give my soul to you
in lines of yesterday,
losing season to rebounding reason,

leaves scattering flow
dreaming reflection,
as imperfection
craving subtle, second chance,

and so romance your eyes
to swill again in measure,

for what is truth in distant pleasure;

our treasure
being such to freshen gift
sifting sand to greater band of bonding wand,

a lifting sigh to passerby,
that we might stop,
and share this moment,

giving new
a chance to blossom.










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  • CarolDesjarlais silver member
    June 3, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Oh my goodness, my man-friend....what is there that you can not capture in yoru soul and send flying out into the Unvierse as the next most perfect poem? And for her....such tribute and testament. Bravo!!!!!


  • Night Hope gold member
    June 2, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    "I could never give my soul to you
    in lines of yesterday,
    losing season to rebounding reason"

    Scribe of the Misted Mountains, this is just too lovely for words. 'specially mine, at the moment. 'cause I'm essentially stammering, turning several shades of scarlet, twitching & grinning like a fool. You know I love you, right? Good luck in the contest, Sweetie. You are ever so aptly named, Rich...for in your presence, there is such wealth to be had, such dreams to embrace the night's whispers. Swanee