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Literature Text
Golden Hair of Solice 4/7/15
What do I say about sweet sweet Kay?
Her spirit inspires me every day.
She is beautiful inside and out.
Of this truth, I have no doubt.
Her support is unending
and as big as her heart.
Her talent is shown
through her unique art.
I am proud to call her my dear friend.
I shall be there for her till the end.
What do I say about sweet sweet Kay?
Her spirit inspires me every day.
She is beautiful inside and out.
Of this truth, I have no doubt.
Her support is unending
and as big as her heart.
Her talent is shown
through her unique art.
I am proud to call her my dear friend.
I shall be there for her till the end.
Literature
Tender Hope
On the edge of my window
grows a small green bud
A white candle stands in the wind
One pale frail flame
flickers with every frozen breath
and the subtle echo lives in my shells
and I know, I can hope again
Literature
Dreams of Clay
Oh, would that my dreams were made of clay,
I'd sculpt them to match my waking hours.
With Pygmalion's hands, I'd build my Galatea,
And watch her come to life.
Would that my woes were made of flesh,
I'd challenge them to single combat.
By fist or blade, I'd meet them blow for blow,
And triumph by my wits and strength.
Would that my courage could fit in my pocket,
I'd never walk in fear again.
In a flask or a box, I would draw it at will,
Standing tall against the gales and tides of fate.
Oh, would that the stars were made of stone,
I would gather them in each hand.
With every fistful, I would build shimmering bridges
And close every gulf
Literature
gold
ocean, i have no more words to give you,
it smells too much like summer,
too much like home, but you are
a thousands miles away
Gaea wants to be Midas, the earth is in
a million shades of the ring
you left on my front porch,
of my mane back when i was wild, when i was free.
i remember when was your leo, you'd stare at the stars and wonder
what it felt to be molten but still burning
but you'd never know, never know,
because the sun doesn't taste like honey
when the well runs dry, it tastes like
death. (sometimes i miss you,
but i know better)
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This is dedicated to yokoky.deviantart.com/ I hope she likes it..thank you Kay for being you
© 2015 - 2024 shep4life
Comments50
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She is surely happy for this lovely poem