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Arms and soul flung wide,

She welcomes the Sun –

Long-lost Lover –

Breathing in his fragrance,

Memorizing his smile

For the cloudy days to come

 

 

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Your Hand

Sunlight robed in Sunday best,

sky, the sea on canvas brushed,

leaves in rustling autumn vest

swayed to whispered wind-worn hush.

Branches opened fists of wood,

letting go of season past,

and I, who underneath it stood,

saw Your hand, and gripped it fast.

Budding Well

Held aloft on dainty stem,

Feeling autumn breeze;

Floating bodice, dancing hem

Tantalizes bees.

Contemplating frost’s approach,

Knowing pending Fate;

Blooming, scorning all reproach –

Budding well won’t wait.