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Sun on skin soaking in heat silky pulsing and scented meant for stroking a sense exercise to enhance the immense radiance that embraces us | ||
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O marvelous morning star maiden what an exhilarating birthday you bring Through the eagerness of fresh fire you inspire the infant day with that initial rose-gold glow of enthusiasm Dispelling the pallor of our past Eclipsing the hopes of the future by illuminating the actions of this day with the sublime sun of man | ||
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milk water white light of moon fog falling on the soft tin-stippled paths of the plate lake playing over levitated logs lying on the edge of eerie ease lolling with ripe ripples that polish the pebble populations to perfections | ||
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A moon maiden's seraphic soprano sung in the full lunar tongue an emphatic stainless voice that leaves one mindless as a mooncalf... with flute breath and oboe eyes she greets me wearing wreaths and waltzing with adept adagio movements What orchestrated artifice is this that leaves me murmuring mesmerized by the music of the moon? | ||
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The moon draws the water with luminous gaze all life shifts subtly to its rhythmic rays pulses quicken, eyes glaze passion tides pour forth impatiently from the throbbing, thudding circadian drum A pallid compelling open portal eye awakens me with its oddly heady midnight stare a hidden growl is swelling in my chest a restless yearning shakes me the white metallic glare fevers my flesh a joyful boyish unbidden howl, lusty and long echoes and escapes me The reflected solar wind rails afresh | revealing and reveling in the thinly radiant uncanny presence of my ancient and still strong instinctive intelligence | |||
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Mingled waters cannot be parted in their affinity. the solid rain on a still pond, a water fall in the fog, broken ice, even water over the dam whirls, pooling from the well spring as one river fated though forked to fill the same vast sea and you my thirsty friends will be drowned unless you learn to drink | ||
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Every pond pictures its own portion of the planet the sensitive film of the surface preserves the inquisitive stick-fingered gestures of the trees as they scratch their cloudy curls questioning the source of such genuine ingenuity A breeze furrows the puddle's skin jigsawing the scene into new shapes that will reassemble into slowly recurring reminiscences | ||
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rocketing reckless in a rubber boat we and the river roaring deep within our throats rafting whitewater rapids where buffle head ducks the ten point bucks the osprey and the otter test their luck Mountains make the background where the only other sound is the swish of fishermen's flies And it seems just seeing this boiling blue ribbon is the prize | ||
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Crazy crack-jawed yawning boulder brutes whistle through aquiline flutes and eat sweet black juice flutes hunted hunch backed holderskyes suck silence through green eyes and sacred-footed cleft clingers that punish apart the bleeding hard hearts with deft dirty finger kisses Twisty tailed whistle dancers dervish gaily for the daily whim and delight of the great invisible swirly swim-wish while lazy forevers smile frozenly as they round the astounded sphinx-footed steep beaks into smoothly jumbled humbles small in the all quiet good time | ||
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Dear weather weaver spinning the perpetual patterns that blanket the earth with basic colors and contrasts of natural order white green brown and red threads of seasons winds of change refreshing revolutions looming predictably pregnant and secure with in the snug fabric that clothes our only home | ||
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Bright lemon yellows mellow mahogany browns heads red with falling crimson crowns Autumn's freeze dances on the breeze tumbling circus trees and tiny christmas clowns The startled deer race the season round stirring the rainbows that flutter to clutter the ground How crisp the air warmed by sunsets drifting everywhere lighting the leafy avenues with their astounding amber hues Squirrels chatter on limbs that sway creating a tintilating | brass ballet Indian summer with its ruby rustle and burning bustle is nature's blush before the snow white hush | |||
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Wild flowers appearing so anachronistic in the midst of this midwinters field where you chanced once to dwell True, you are withered but you recall fragrant warmth and evoke colorful memories Rare Powers, Awake when the stars sip the dark wine of wisdom from the silver chalice of the sliver moon divining from destiny the arrival of dawn Scattered Sunshowers are rarely reported throughout the world they render visible | the tender cloudless moments of fragile joy transparent within us Rejoice! you are one of them | |||
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Icicle bars span my window this cavernous night Diamond dinosaur fangs dart The luminous moon and stars impart a crisp crystalline light Tallow tapers shadow the parchment walls Then the breeze breaks this breathtaking spell making wind chimes with frost rimes and oriental bells | ||
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The liquid silver curtain of melting snow drips arythmically before my door grand ghostly strips of bleached sheets spook lazily against the sparkling haze of sunlit snows The sharp incense of cedar streaming freshly cut from the broken windowed woodshed spikes the brazen azure air 'Neath never needing new needled firs slender wings startled stir wafting perfume of their juniper bed from bent chafed branched over head Child's rock piled blocks glossed with garish glowing moss precariously balanced massive precision supported by natural indecision | Provocative indigo broods over magic carpet daydream interludes spun while sprawled high atop ancient bones, utterly alone Sweeping swan's wings draws near tier upon tier of virgin veneer wind blown Stellar streams urge these scenes to merge and sway and surge and say " Children Come away Embark today" | |||
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Kissed with every essence the blush petaled foot of Spring, to whose very presence clings the well-aged wine bouquet of damp earth, ambles thus anointed through the ardor of the ablaze arbors to attend the rebirth blessing blithely laving lithely all with aching life. Sylph of Sunskin ageless angel woman of the world wind willed, wild a wilder-nested sun flower | dayspring dressed for the fragrant lovers that hover well seasoned with southern sighs for a glance from those harlequin horizon eyes | |||
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Another muddy midwestern March; the obvious odor of earthworms squirms upward through the mulch of last year's leaves that squelch redundantly with each step The once overwhelming winter's snow now cringes in dingy corners A clammy mad directionless wind, child of the mild season, gleefully snatches caps with mischievous abandon and many hearty back slaps giving an urchin's whoop that sweeps street and stoop the impish Gypsy then curls a chubby fist and sighing falls slumbering into Spring | ||
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On a still night in April you may thrill to a glimpse of faeries, imps and nymphs that faintly glimmer as they gather to jig with saintly, mad, saturnalian glee rings round the ancient, infant, oaken tree to summon that which is never left to chance with the incantation and the dance. An oddly warbled invitation that tree frogs twist in imitation. The spell has no words yet must be sung, the step is only for the very drunk or very young. So slowly and softly, I was drawn by the elementals, elves and fauns into the misty midst of the feast to reel shoeless on fay feet. With chorus upon chorus of this enchanted chant | we conjured the season to honor the ageless covenant. And with the arrival of the Equinox echoing in my head the dawn approached and the revelers fled. And of this celebration not a memory would remain save myself in the morning in the warm Spring rain. | |||
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The stained glass window wings of the Monarch arch and repose in apropos prayer from the pulpit of my fingertip we contemplate our complimentary forms sanctified by the forest shuttered sun where silence is both wooden and golden | ||
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Fourth of July fireflies glint green between the spectacular gleam of the spider legged fireworks And if these bright delights did not suffice there was the free form glimmer of the icy northern lights Quite an illuminating experience for one summer night | ||
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Jardenia, Eden's island child whose nature leans to nurture, your lime light dresses us in iridescent chameleon cloth cut from fruit skins Thorns turn limp at a touch cornucopias garland the unattended gardens Twin tongues of pleasure and leisure tickle our inner ears murmuring unisonorously of fearless comfort Drowsing couches hammocks of loosely whorled tussocks with sheets of tapestried ferns cradle us as we dream slow in the half glow of cat's eyes and stars | ||