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"Cry me a river, that's what she has done.
After i dismissed all the laughter, romantic
dinners, the excitement of our forever lasting fun.
A lady with no emotion has no soul.
How much i tried to bring it out, her
heart was just too cold.
Too late to shed tears after i had given her
my relentless love for one full year.
Now she cry's me a river, tugging on my
shirt begging not to leave her.
Iv'e been through this before, but never
opening up the door.
I forgave,, only left standing in my tears that fell
to the floor.
Here it is once again. My blood rushing to my head.
The door fresh in my sight.
It opens. I walk into the night.
Time stands still as i breath in the early morning air.
I look up to the sound of a free flying bird, and me, also
there."
 Aug 2016 Tia White
Stephan


Can you hear it,
soft on window pane whispers,
floating in sunrise shadows,
smooth as fountains flowing,
drifting in and out of silence,
pouring internal meanings,
rhythmic wishes

Blushed in muted tones,
standing in a rainbow’s arch,
drenched of weeping welcomes,
singing sweet praises
moving in metered time
to your wondrous love,
can you hear it?
 Aug 2016 Tia White
Stephan


Blew a kiss to the moon
in the heavens tonight
As it wandered along
on its magical flight

Then made a wish
and if it does come true
The moon will deliver
my kiss to you
 Aug 2016 Tia White
Stephan


Take my hand we’ll stroll along
this winding way to somewhere far

Through maple trees, warm summer winds
with cricket songs and shooting stars

A garden path of jasmine vine
in moon beam light and fragrance sweet

We'll follow each desire known
and destinies ahead to meet

Two silhouettes, a quiet night
in footprints left on sandy shores

Around the bend, down every lane,
you by my side, I need not more

Until we reach the mountain top,
where echoes flow of wishes tossed

And we shall shout to all the world
within our love, we two are lost . . . together
 Aug 2016 Tia White
cgembry
Till half asleep I bask
under cerulean skies and sunshine
in the middle of the meadow
where the gentle winds roam
counting clouds
like they were sheep
slowly drifting toward a world of dreams
while listening to the peaceful swooshing
of free winds across the soft grass
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