Hark! The rhythm
Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...
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The sun was nearly gone. So were the last of his passengers. That was what he thought. Driving the cab at snail-pace through city’s traffi...
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He went there. Daily. Unfailingly. His conversations, Candid, Intimate. And why not! He had Inspired That iron-man, ...
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The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on h...
Purple dreams under the moonlight.
ReplyDeleteNice image.
Thank you Susan
DeleteWhen I think of night I think of a sky full of stars!
ReplyDeleteI think every imagination brings up the star lit night skies
DeleteYou have me wanting to be up in the mountains right now. Love your poem.
ReplyDeleteThe View from the Top of the Ladder
May be I could join you.
DeleteThank you Susie