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Poems On / About SUN  9/3/2015 1:47:08 AM
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  185.     

Sun

Hey, do you think if I stretch far enough, I could reach the sun? Hmm… No, I don’t think so… Maybe I’ll get a ladder. Then I can climb my way up! But… No… That probably won’t work either.

Why the sun? Because it rules the sky! On those days when beads of sweat roll down my entire body, I’ll look up at the magnificence that is the sun. How the rays will fall down to rest upon my skin, warming it even though it’s so far away.

To bask in the sun all day, that it was I long to do. To do nothing all day but to lay underneath it with you at my side, without any interruptions from the outside world, for me, that is my perfect day. To watch as the light falls over your lithe form, illuminating your eyes and your hair glowing with the extra light, well there’s no better sight to see.

Maybe if I throw a rope, that way I can pull it down to me…

 
Giggy HIKIT

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  186.     

The Fall Breeze

Walking in the woods on a brisk fall morning. The silence broken by my footsteps and the sound of the breeze as it try's to steal the leaves from their perch. The cold on my face snaps at my skin while I think of how fast these last few months have sped by. The crackle of the brush reminding me of the coldness to come, soon winter will control the rise and setting of the sun. Cold wind will howl, snow will blanket the ground but my walk goes on with dreams and hopes for my future sound. A clearing ahead the sun shines bright, I quicken my pace to feel the sun on my skin. The grass is cut low and turning yellow from the cold as I lay down to rest I look into the sky. Just noticed the beauty as I gaze into space, the clouds float by and the colors so bright brought a tear on my face. My trips through the woods are a daily event to gather my thoughts and try to have hope. Most times, regretfully so, it is alone I do go, but on a rare day she comes to frolic in the sun. Hand in hand we walk and mostly I talk she looks at me to say I love you and want to stay. Tomorrow comes and I wait for her here she tells me she can't while shedding a tear. I turn into the woods alone I must go looking at my hand where her fingers fit so. I try to keep on and not frown upon the loss that I feel as the wind tries to steal the leaves in the trees that blow in the breeze. With hope I carry on, for her laughter to dance upon my days and nights to never end with her love and her touch my best friend. To walk in the woods hand in hand, everyday to turn to her and say, thank you for being here and not afraid to scream I love you dear without any fear so the world will hear my words crystal clear.....but for now I walk alone my house not a home in the woods I still roam mostly alone.
JJM
 
Joshua Miller

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  187.     

The Brown Urchin

When he saw me he smiled, that brown urchin, I was surprised, I didn't expect this clarity from him. you know the brown things are deep.
He was an adept fishmonger. He have a silver net, inherited it from his old grandfathers. But he told me that he did not like fish, and all what he do is painting the fish with silver, then he casts it to the other bank of the river , where the sun falls.He likes the sunset, and likes sun. He told me that the sun at sunset, reaches the river, and catches the fish as a bear.
He entered me in his thriving house, it was a burrow , what a cold burrow was it? the dust is moist, he has a warmhearted neighborhoods. they were smooth like the lemon leafs . he set me on an old table , made from the hoopoe bones, he was a good bewitching. He had a wife and children, they are bewitchings also.
At first they mock at me, because I wear a shining clothes. They say to me, be brown and deep, after that they alienated me to a silver fish with elegant wings , then they throw me to the other bank, where the sunset. I was happy, although I don’t like the fish, nor the sunset. Yes, for many times I had dream that I fly in a strange space, but it did not occur to me that I will be - in someday – a silver meal to the sun.





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Anwer Gani

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  188.     

The Brown Urchin

When he saw me he smiled, that brown urchin, I was surprised, I didn't expect this clarity from him. you know the brown things are deep.
He was an adept fishmonger. He have a silver net, inherited it from his old grandfathers. But he told me that he did not like fish, and all what he do is painting the fish with silver, then he casts it to the other bank of the river , where the sun falls.He likes the sunset, and likes sun. He told me that the sun at sunset, reaches the river, and catches the fish as a bear.
He entered me in his thriving house, it was a burrow , what a cold burrow was it? the dust is moist, he has a warmhearted neighborhoods. they were smooth like the lemon leafs . he set me on an old table , made from the hoopoe bones, he was a good bewitching. He had a wife and children, they are bewitchings also.
At first they mock at me, because I wear a shining clothes. They say to me, be brown and deep, after that they alienated me to a silver fish with elegant wings , then they throw me to the other bank, where the sunset. I was happy, although I don’t like the fish, nor the sunset. Yes, for many times I had dream that I fly in a strange space, but it did not occur to me that I will be - in someday – a silver meal to the sun.





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Anwer Ghani

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