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My mind too’s an amazing thing....
With waft and warp
And tinkly talk -
Floating barks
And red canoes,
Jingle bells and kangaroos.
Here they come
One by one
A horde of fabulous things
And when they’re done,
After their bow,
More’s waiting in the wings.
The world’s a stage,
And somewhere a poetic sage
Watches in nonplussed wonder,
Thinking if a note is missed,
We’ll not hear the cymbal’s thunder.
No matter what though,
The words come on
And take their bows in pride
While bears carry heads
In velvet paws
And blush bright red
At the applause,
While in their costumes
Boil inside
And sometimes wish
That they had died.
By Raphael
posted by
Raphael222
on
August 17, 2009
at
1:26 PM
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reply
I finally got to do one! YAHOO!
It must be that I think to oft
and am bemused at my quaff;
the brain is a tricky cad
should I cease to think, I might go mad.
But a poet is what I seek to be
and the verses becoming quatrains, only I can see;
their meaning hidden in my mind's abyss
for I could never reveal all the poet's tenderheartedness!
Have a great day! sammy 

posted by
sam444
on
August 17, 2009
at
9:55 AM
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I build a raft /to float away /and fish for words I want to say/elusive moments of despair /waitng in the shadow there....
posted by
merkie
on
August 16, 2009
at
8:55 PM
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I have so much floating in my mind too.
posted by
FormerStudentIntern
on
August 16, 2009
at
2:48 PM
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The muse..
I find the muse to be a very elusive creature, it appears when i'm least prepared and deserts me when
I'm ready! Lol
posted by
Easher
on
August 16, 2009
at
2:56 AM
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One can retain so very much, except for that which is really needed, it seems.
posted by
TAPS.
on
August 15, 2009
at
10:26 PM
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reply
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