Shooting Blinks

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Suns fade quicker when back’s turned.
Dawns risen tastier yearned.
The shade’s darker beneath the tree.
Yet it is we who choose to be, there and then.
Forever then never ends, only now, not if or when.
Blinks miss winks, parch quenched, only now to see.
Suns fade brighter when dawn’s earned, risen and turned.

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Feathers of Time

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With a bow to fateful inspiration, I shall cast skyward, beyond the heavens and to the heart of a most divine princess. Though this arrow will not pierce nor blemish all that is pure. For it will levitate before her command, awaiting thoughtful reply. It is then thy arrow shall propel and traverse, returning to my waiting, wanting and out stretched hand. And with this most sacred and singular of tools I trust and follow; deserts and plains, rivers, forests, seas and frozen peaks where only the arrow dare soar, I do confidently tread. Upon the highest pinnacle I will see the light and be guided. Drawn by the heat of shared passions, we attract and we shall meld and mold, we will unite as one and become the bow, two parts equal. Tied with care and precision we are flexible and strong. The arrow does no wrong.

~*~

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Giggles and Tears of Joy

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I see your inner child; fragile and pure.
I’m the little smitten boy that rolls on your floor.
I give you dandelions every day in the Spring.
Summers had without a care on your backyard swing.

We blow bubbles and dance in tall wet grass.
School years of bliss blossom, too soon to pass.
Stealing first kisses, to the prom, home on-time.
Off to college enriching our minds, soon to be sublime.

We travel the world and fall in love anew.
We eclipse eternity; hand in hand, me and you.

~*~

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Poetic Ironies of Introduction

To whom it may inspire

To love a poet; pasts can be revised, futures imagined with exuberance and love, ah yes love, our’s sculpted in stone as the eternal benchmark for all others to hopelessly seek. The now will be forever envisioned in each other’s eyes and made more beautiful. Time will never simply tick away, but be the metronome of our heartbeats in sync. Though sadness inevitable for it is this love of life, love of love and love of words to express that may seemingly leave too little time for true love, it is not I assure you, for time can concentrate, intensify and encapsulate. Be my ecstasy and I forever yours. Two timers need not apply as heart breakers divide and multiply, others free to indulge and imagine with me a mutual double fantasy. Seeking inspiration, passions and enthusiasm with enthused inspired passion. Innuendo not implied for it is implicit. Thus is me, I conclude.

Hopelessly Hopeful…

 

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