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2WhiteWolves

Full Member
Oct 25, 2017
59
8,223
Tornado Alley

I am breathless
Need I say
How could you find me here
You, of all have crossed my way
Unexpectedly...from where
I feel like I am dreaming
Hold me close
Tomorrow may be gone
This is a moment
Of belief
This is a moment
Made of dreams
You found me here today
On the coldest winter night
This moment is our right
Now, Helena tell me all
The years we've been apart...
Did you hear the mountain fall
My broken heart
Don't wake me if I'm dreaming
Hush, my dear
Because tomorrow may be gone
This is the moment
Not before
This is the moment
Say no more
You found me here today
On the coldest winter night
This moment is our right
 
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2WhiteWolves

Full Member
Oct 25, 2017
59
8,223
Tornado Alley
picmix.com_4554151.gif
 

YePsTeR

Ultra Member
ECF Veteran
Verified Member
Jan 4, 2010
2,140
8,505
Northern Michigan
Good Morning Everyone!!

Krusty is krushed after the way the Saints game ended.

Oh well, we'll get 'em next year:)
When I saw that last play the first thing that entered my head was if Krusty will be okay?
Looks like you are good to go!!:thumb:
 

stols001

Moved On
ECF Veteran
May 30, 2017
29,338
108,119


Let's see if that posts, that's about how I feel today (glad you are OK Krusty) and I have stuck to my new schedule oh EXCEPT girly illness strikes, of course, the kind that makes you glad you kept some abx and chamomile tea on hand (and pyridium AND cranberry juice :( )

No yoga today :(

Anna
 

Hypnophone

Moved On
ECF Veteran
Mar 9, 2011
474
33,233
FEMA Region VI
Dayum, Stols...

That would make an epic tooon.



A Love Poem. I really, really hate writing them, but occasionally I am forced to since poetry class will often assign you something. I took a look at this one and amended it, which is actually a good sign, since if I start doing that I am gearing up to start Editing Again (you kinda gotta rest in between, but not forever). So I had fun "fixing" it although there's still something wrong with it, perhaps the ending, IDK. It has been my observation that sometimes things I hate other people like but MAN, love poetry has just been done to death. This one is more about the evolution of trust in marriage I think.

Since my elbow is still messed up, I'm posting it, and probably starting the final edit later... Even if it's reluctant and I don't get far, I know it will Pick Up. LOL. Critiques welcomed :)

Love Poem

My husband became my solid ground, having
crept all around those most guarded
enemy lines; he was a spy who viewed from far away
what lay ahead, my ready-marshalled armament defenses
and he, who in the still of night breached the interior, causing
misinformation and dissemination until at last my castle
fell, with no lives lost as it crumbled. No
not even me; he did not touch a single
hair upon my head.

For I was no Rapunzel singing and I would
never lower one precious silken strand
but would shave them off mistrustfully
instead, so fortunate was I in my patient, loving
observer who with his telescopes, carrier pigeons and
secret signs, his passwords, armies of guard dogs

and wolves barred my way and
with his own scarred hands he built a ladder
to invite me down, when startled I ran to the very
top of the keep and opened each window
preparing to fly straight aloft;

frozen and afraid, I would not have
touched that flow of molten earth beneath
me for any useless, reckless prince, all
gilded over with lies. But my husband
who for years has laid
his snares and spread glorious wares:
flowers and fruits from his own precincts
placing before me all his love and lowering
his marred and broken body that allowed

my ever frightened flighty feet to run across
in safety. So, he slowly coaxed me down through
sheer perseverance, hearing my blown
engines, my wings ripped off by rushing air
my radar jammed, my rudder useless and compass
dead, into a most gentle
emergency landing…. I crashed
down into his arms.

For my husband is my ground and
does not fear my storms or lightning, just
my parting.

But this is no longer possible for I am bound
by each gilded, glossy thread connecting us
within an infinity pattern, a God figure, a sideways geometric
precisely drawn silver eight, we are adjoined
by neck, spine, heart, soul, body and secret.

My husband who would never raise himself up
by releasing a single breath across my face in violence

and he can see at last revealed, a poor sinner and a patient spinner
weaving veils around him
wings still slightly crooked but strengthening enough
to soar, not unlike a butterfly around him or a moth
to flame,
without a single danger brought to mind

as my husband
is my perfect human love
forever.

And now together we linger, tending to our own
grounds—earth, wind, air, weather, fire and water—

we are plant-growing, child-rearing and
sons and daughters of a most loving and
merciful God, who names us, as

He names us all, “My Eve,
My Adam, beloveds—come back
to Me now in haste—and
raise yourselves up through sacrifices for each other
be My sons and daughters as I wait in silent patience

and enter Heaven, for it is
exactly
Here and Now.

The sunlight, your family together and the
love that glows each morning
upon your horizon at
the break of day.”

Anna
 

Hypnophone

Moved On
ECF Veteran
Mar 9, 2011
474
33,233
FEMA Region VI

When you're asleep they may show you
Aerial views of the ground,
Freudian slumber empty of sound.

Over the rooftops and houses,
Lost as it tries to be seen,
Fields of incentive covered with green.

Mesmerized children are playing,
Meant to be seen but not heard,
"Stop me from dreaming!"
"Don't be absurd!"

"Well if we can help you we will,
You're looking tired and ill.
As I count backwards
Your eyes become heavier still.
Sleep, won't you allow yourself fall?
Nothing can hurt you at all.
With your consent
I can experiment further still."

Madrigal music is playing,
Voices can faintly be heard,
"Please leave this patient undisturbed."

Sentenced to drift far away now,
Nothing is quite what it seems,
Sometimes entangled in your own dreams.

"Well, if we can help you we will,
Soon as you're tired and ill.
With your consent
We can experiment further still.

Well, thanks to our kindness and skill
You'll have no trouble until
You catch your breath
And the nurse will present you the bill!"

Songwriters: ANTHONY BANKS, STEVE HACKETT
 
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