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It was a gorgeous summer afternoon; just right for a drive in the country. I was cruising along the familiar road and simply admiring
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Princes and palaces are all around her Disguised as clouds hovering in the blue sky,
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Column: Ruminations
by Flautist00
31 lines, 1 comment,
on Dec 11 9:13 PM 2006
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Nostalgia boiling in my heart of hearts Coursing through each vein,
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Her deep wrinkles are a testimony
To the many tears that have
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The sun rises in the blood stained skies
Beginning to heat the parched lands,
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A baby’s cry did pierce the silent night,
Alerting all that Christ the child was born.
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Frozen whispers form icicles during the bitter night
And greet the early risers with a cold sting.
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With closed eyes and parted lips he slowly
Inhales and thinks quietly for a moment.
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He impulsively dashes from one safe spot to the next,
Flashing vivid black eyes that avoid blinking.
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When did that magical ability to invent slip away?
I cannot recall the moment when I lost my power to create a new game.
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A canopy if lilacs drips over my head,
Shielding the sun and releasing petals now and then.
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She always has flowers in her hair
With petals casually at her feet.
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Mystery streams past my canoe and paddles
Accompanied by an eerie sense of knowledge.
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An intricate and even meticulous key
Finally slips into the appropriate lock.
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I stare into the immeasurable
Folds of soft midnight velvet.
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Dearest Brent,
It has been awhile since I have written you a letter or poem, so I wanted to take tonight to let you know how much I love you.
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Mistaken Tear
I hate those times when
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Sometimes I just don’t know what to do,
Because it’ll hurt so badly and tears aren’t even worth it.
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Free and determined notes break into the air rolling for countless measures,
Followed by sudden bangs of B flats,
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I remember sitting outside on a warm day…
Sunbathing in a brightly colored playpen…
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The school’s bathroom mirror has never been a good thing
How could it be?
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A faint musty smell is dancing to and fro,
While dust scatters underneath heavy footsteps,
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The face is pure white; free of blemish,
With a glossy skin of frozen bitterness.
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The crisp perfection of autumn fills my nostrils,
While dancing leaves float to the ground by me.
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This morning I woke up with a pounding headache,
The kind that refuses to fade.
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Feels like it’s been so long,
Since I last had the chance to bask in your sweet love,
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“Laura, you’re just not good enough,”
Moans the voice from deep inside me.
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The delicate notes roll out in a sheet of ice,
Embracing the snug and cooling room with comfort.
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The hustle and bustle of the holiday are taking over
Christ replaced with a big red X
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The innocent and delicate life takes form,
But all the work and growth is a lost cause.
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A drum is thumping deep inside my head,
It feels like it will burst in just a flash,
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A peppermint…
Peppermints make me think of a cold
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the colorfully painted carousel sails around,
floating in the sky, yet rooted to the ground.
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