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Poetry isn't written:
                                                        ­                                    
Words are written,
and Poetry is read.
On the palm
time doth give

and takes away too.
Hurrying to my work in the untimely shower
Caught my ears the mews but it was rush hour
Must be another kitten born with no luck
Abandoned in the shrub dying on sidewalk!

The day soon rubbed off the mews from my mind
Till my feet trudged home leaving the drudge behind
Once upon that sidewalk in twilight’s grayish hues
I heard it from neath of grass pain’s plaintive mews!

Must be an angel possessed me I did find it out
Picked up took home put warm milk into its mouth
My lady unpleased said our hands are already full
Here you bring another like you isn’t another fool!

But she was the first one to make it a cosy bed
She was the one worrying how it to be properly fed
Yet filled the air its agony’s mews all day and night
She said your taking it here wasn’t all that right!

Its ma must have left the baby in the bush safely hiding
Picking up and taking it home was quite a wrong thing
She must be now crying wild searching everywhere
The baby wouldn’t stop crying till getting back mother!

So the cute kitten I placed back in the hideout on sidewalk
With the prayer it gets back ma wishing it good luck
Leaving it with heavy heart I walked away for day’s work
Sighed the silent sidewalk on my way home after dark!
sometimes the dividing line between wrong and right is too thin.
 Aug 2014 Wandering soul
Traveler
Colorful words and brilliant metaphors fill the canvas of our soul
Shadows become illuminated to where the heart can see its own reflection Exposing the immortality of our eternal awareness
The words of the timeless Witness shine forth in a breathtaking “Awe!”
And within that brief moment the true face of God is realized
Like a song that speaks to the innermost part of your being
A dream of such wonder that you struggle not to awaken from
This passion for expression, this emotional release
An ascent to heaven
A fall from grace.
All within a word...
You've got this fire
blazing away in my mind;
burning through my time,
making me breathless,
shreiking anxiety,
a chaotic unrest.
Heat in my veins
and my douse just
no more the same.
I think I am sick with love again.
 Aug 2014 Wandering soul
nina
lonely
 Aug 2014 Wandering soul
nina
Do you think that the moon ever gets lonely,
when the ocean is still and the stars won't shine
as bright as the night before?
Do you think that I ever get lonely,
when my lips won't feel your skin and my hands
get so numb that I can't hold you anymore?
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