| Open Poetry #47 |
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October 10, 2011 |
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pen&paper Senior Member
since 2006-06-06
Posts 513
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Numbers fall neatly into place Circa 1981 But I am busy dancing the only way I know how... With words Today... It's a waltz slow, steady, and romantic One Two Three Four I am leading My words gowned in ebony ink I in control So 'round the page we go I can almost hear the music Slow, steady, and romantic One Two Three Four So this is Love... There is no great passion of which to speak Rather, a deep understanding and true affection And that is enough Swirling ebony-draped words Over a lined floor It is here that I have grace Here that my movements have meaning Here that I am in control And I am whole |
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| © Copyright 2011 Cierra L. Robbeloth - All Rights Reserved | |||
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
I understand and thank you for the music. ~* The saddest words of tongue or pen are the words It might have been.--John Greenleaf Whittier ~*~ |
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pen&paper Senior Member
since 2006-06-06
Posts 513 |
You're welcome and thank you for understanding. |
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