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 Feb 2017
Ovi-Odiete
Black night

When the moonlight goes into hiatus
and no star beckons the dark sky
Two lovers will hold hands
and side by side, they walk
Moments after moments
hours after hours
Their smile will wake the night
and their touch will be its light
Guiding them yonder
As they conquer the night


Morning

When the stars floats and go into hiding
And the day breaks, yawningly yearning
Two lovers will bloom like dew falls
On the spiraling grass, fresh and green
And as birds chirping
Calling after calling
Their song will seize the day
and their love will lead its paths
Blossoming the day, blossoming
Flowing the day, flowing
And love will be its fruit


Ovi Odiete
All right reserved, Feb 2017
For love and the season of love
 Feb 2017
Gidgette
I slipped last night
On a moon beam,
Shining through the window glass
Onto my bedroom floor
And I fell into the night
With you
The stars chattered in Twinkles
At the two of us, laying on their velvet night sky
So beautiful, that the very shadow of the earth
Decided to join us, and the moon
For an eclipsing view
Of me and you
 Feb 2017
Jellyfish
Sinking...
deep into the dark blue ocean.
I see myself slowly disappearing.
When the waters become this unclear,
when I feel scared, you're my Atolla.
My georgeous light in this sea of darkness.
The Atolla is a bioluminescent Jellyfish. They live deep in the ocean. When they're attacked, they display a beautiful light show. It's meant to attract a large sea animal that is bigger than their predators. (Sorry if I didn't explain well, if you're interested in the Atolla there is always Google though.)
 Feb 2017
Jamie L Cantore
°So  I built it with  °Many olive brancheS°.
 Ah, we burned it!  A gap in fr'nship.
 Rarely it's seen   Rarity so em' tea,
An empty din     Inside felt w'thin.
How will silencing  End your suff'ring?
 Feb 2017
Jamie L Cantore
Every coulee, thirsting, gladly drinks,
Every basin and every sleepless hollow;
Where duly each charitable droplet sinks,
Whither hasten the novel spring follow.

Yet it goes, unfolding as a tempo mosies
Shoots will shiver open their split edges,
To strip, unclothe their budding posies,
In the timber, the garden, and hedges;

Weaved is a grove of anchored love
A Finch or Sparrow to meet another,
A nest, a cloak, a marquee high above
A den for father, hatchlings & mother.
 Feb 2017
Traveler
Shaking hands
Demanding attention
Twitch of dread
Arms violently ****
Then the hands
Turn to bugs
Then the arms
And finally
A pile of bugs
Fall to the floor
Running in every
Possible direction
Because
  I want more...
Traveler Tim
No bugs
Got left behind



P.S.
More out of life.
 Feb 2017
PaperclipPoems
He told me he was greedy
I told him to take all of me.
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