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Wordcrafter Regular Visitor Karma: 11/1 93 Posts
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Craft Thirty-Eight
I have a hundred and fifty poems, which I may only be sharing a small few. I been called classy for as long as I can remember, and although my poems are not graphic, they very descriptive and since there are younger readers [not necessarily reading everything, better to be safe than sorry] - This is one of the mildest that I have,
Air of the mountain morning mist, which dances upon us and wills us to dance with it.
To be a new and love be true, as we hold each other in the destiny.
Why not sing it to the world, that our life is complete?
To the let the robins sing us a love song, and we laugh contentedly for they know us that well, so vivid we are in love and in prosperity.
So alive, is like we own this world and it allows us to. To cry out in joy, like children at play, for we are a child at heart.
Eternally free, as souls can be never denying what our love is to bring. Ourselves as one, ourselves to be, a world of just you and me.
Into you heart I dream in your laughter I live in.
Told hold upon your thought is waiting for a dream to come true, waiting for everything to be fulfilled. So here we stand, hand over hand.
A gentle kiss, a loving hug to set our heart a beat. We are so meant to be and together we bring a impossible dream very much possible.
We take what we want a hold it tightly truly be apart of it, like to spring roses consuming the life of the sun, the life of us.
We are together.
Posted on 2010-08-31 at 18:43:05.
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