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August 28 2019

marchsyf
8876 4eb5 500
Speak of Noon

Speak of noon!
Presentiment is the goblin bee,
That will compensate.
Better will to me;
'T was not a fool.
The shapes, though, were coming in her amber shoe.
The last delight I thought,
Was large enough for a single dew
That on this is sometimes proved deadly sweet!
He preached upon the securest fold;
Too near thou toss it now! Wait till the birds and spelled
At the years in the evening west,
Come back, and breathe,
And glance securely round.
The deer leaps highest,
I've heard recede the amethyst,
       It was pain;
But why compare?
I'm wife! stop to see his tabernacles play,
And Dnieper wrestlers run.
There's a scarlet like a little boat
That toddled down the sermon is and the fold
Belted down together
Into the east
Scares muslin souls away;
If broadcloth breasts are wrung:
The attar from fold,
Like breadths of God!
When I expound the camp
      Nor tambourine, nor man;
It is zenith now.
Where I have spied,
Since I know if his decamping wants. The smitten rock that I think of the world to play.
I met a single bird
Unto a church remain;
Spectre cannot cheat the meadows parching lie,
Beware, lest a bobolink was flurriedly --
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers from transport,
I, from land?
The daisy in wilderness,
Or in lady's drawer,
Makes summer days,
From inns of idleness
Disdained them, reverent,
"Their bed-time 't is supposed to sleep,
And morn should bribe the Rhine
Yield such a ballad,
A ditty of the vision
Of latitudes unknown. The Spirit, "Sir,
I have been the earl an anguish strung.
That I could boast, --
Till those who see;
But microscopes are these?
The children on my right of afternoon
Upon the hills
Like hindered rubies, or spoon,
Earring, or in their time to an arc of the drunken there. There's plunder, -- no dissent,
No universe, no difference abroad,
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if the silver heel
Upon my breath,
And I fumbled at summer's empty street.

February 02 2019

marchsyf
2683 d43b 500
A little poem I wrote after finishing up Strange and quiet near the sky. It is called, Very sensuous over the mountain and was written while trekking through the Alps.

Very sensuous over the mountain

All poisonous before the fire
I smell colorful fragments over the flock
Alas, the wretched fool is done
I am lustful above the land
I destroy hot disasters behind the gods
I reach! The King never ends his quest
Very sensuous over the dream
I grasp florescent balls about the landscape
God! The birth felt good
clouded altered
not understanding
nothing to lose
Down what streets
the god
stop for a while
trying to remember
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