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Literature Text
Fingers like a willow, bending at his whim
Run through amber waves of grain.
(blue eyes and somber cups of tea defined evenings and testimonies of simpler things)
He will hold her in his eyes –the blues ones— and tell her secrets of the world
Like pixie dreams and broken seams and tired, creaky balance beams;
Intertwining fingers and clasped hearts.
Finally.
Run through amber waves of grain.
(blue eyes and somber cups of tea defined evenings and testimonies of simpler things)
He will hold her in his eyes –the blues ones— and tell her secrets of the world
Like pixie dreams and broken seams and tired, creaky balance beams;
Intertwining fingers and clasped hearts.
Finally.
Literature
The Eyes and Stars of You
The land reaches out into the distance,
To the point where ground and sky become one
It is farther than an eye can see
My love stretches further
The mountains reach up, pointing fingers, they seem,
They are pushing the floor of heaven
It is farther than the eye can see
My love reaches further
The oceans, so wide, so deep,
Deep, they must be, for the secrets they bury
It is deeper than than a man can go
My love is deeper
Billions upon billions, sharing love, sharing all,
Each stands, alone or together, and each one falls,
Sometimes, with blessings and luck, into another's eyes
I am the most blessed, the luckiest, I feel
I fall
Literature
she never had eyes as bright
she never had eyes as bright as
cold
or song as clear as
dark
but ever into her starry skies
I withered,
drawn into abysmal depths
by the promise
of a ravaged warmth,
somewhere near the centre.
now,
at the zenith of her autumnal beauty,
I find myself lost;
her brilliant voice
in prosepoetry elegance
shall whisper "I love"
into corroded dark
and tear all of the roadblocks
forcibly
from my mind.
Literature
.:R e a l e y e s:.
dreams take life after dark,
or so i've h e a r d.
it was, of course, a night lark
who told me, such a little bird.
life takes on what it will,
or so i've seen,
behind my windowsill
is a world still g r e e n.
old books breathe sometimes,
if you keep them close,
and if you caress their rhymes
and s t r
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"You love him, don't you."
"No, but I do trust him."
---
recently, the words have been awkward but so expressive...
Recently I've been trying a new, shorter style. What really worries me is the third and and fifth line. Should the third line be omitted? And the fifth line has a rhythm to it that is separate from the piece. Is it too distracting?
Edit 1 I reworked the finally line and made it two. I really hope it isn't awkward.
"No, but I do trust him."
---
recently, the words have been awkward but so expressive...
Recently I've been trying a new, shorter style. What really worries me is the third and and fifth line. Should the third line be omitted? And the fifth line has a rhythm to it that is separate from the piece. Is it too distracting?
Edit 1 I reworked the finally line and made it two. I really hope it isn't awkward.
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This is lovely