Poetry Bites #5

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sometimes…
something as 
simple as a kiss
is all that need
be uttered.
speaking 
volumes.

 

 

Master

Master

 
I will never call a man Master.
But I will love him masterfully,
Worshiping all parts
of him so skillfully
with all parts of me.
He will believe he
owns the Universe.

Seasons Past

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Seasons Past

Nature plays nostalgic,
A subtle strumming
Of my heart
And her song falls
Evident off my cheeks.
Weeping the notes
Of seasons past,
The melody
Is never long
Forgotten.

 

 

Her Eyes (micropoetry)

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Her Eyes

 

Behind those oracle irises of

dark chocolate swirls,

lay depths unfathomable 

to the naked eye.