thepoetstree blogspot.com

The Poets Tree

In the memory the landscape etched. Younger times auctioned to the highest. Primitive minutes spent in purest aw. The strike of a line the pressure rises. Ripped away as it thought. Yet all revealed the cards always show. Decisions made intent on the prize. Battle as you must to reach yours. Labels I Was Wrong. The hurried rustle pushes us forward. What dawn has yet to bring, mind sets. Even tattered thin papers weigh down the scales. The present darkened, as the future blinds. A stomach fully processed.

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Paulys Poems

Bits and Pieces Of Driftwood. Saturday, December 17, 2011. Your back is away from the floor boards. My feet are as high as they can possibly be. Hoping for somewhere to go from here. Maybe we will wake up and see. Taking us pass the horizon. Beyond the grass littered fields. Where you willingly agree to be there forever. Standing in the light dividing the source of it. Changing the darkness for the better.

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Find Similar Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

Beachcomber Island

As the fact of love,. And the pact of love,. Or more likely the tact of love. Nor the taking of love. Might even be the forsaking of love. The love that really amounts. Try making a bed or scrubbing the floor,. De-spotting the jon, discovering the vac,. Who knows how erotic,.

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The Poets Tree

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In the memory the landscape etched. Younger times auctioned to the highest. Primitive minutes spent in purest aw. The strike of a line the pressure rises. Ripped away as it thought. Yet all revealed the cards always show. Decisions made intent on the prize. Battle as you must to reach yours. Labels I Was Wrong. The hurried rustle pushes us forward. What dawn has yet to bring, mind sets. Even tattered thin papers weigh down the scales. The present darkened, as the future blinds. A stomach fully processed.

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This web page thepoetstree.blogspot.com states the following, "In the memory the landscape etched." We saw that the webpage said " Younger times auctioned to the highest." It also said " Primitive minutes spent in purest aw. The strike of a line the pressure rises. Ripped away as it thought. Yet all revealed the cards always show. Decisions made intent on the prize. Battle as you must to reach yours. The hurried rustle pushes us forward. What dawn has yet to bring, mind sets. Even tattered thin papers weigh down the scales. The present darkened, as the future blinds."

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