Don't look too closely at my poems.
Don't expect perfection.
Don't measure the meter.
Don't demand realism in the details.
...
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Suddenly, I am no longer alone. I feel the support of the hardwood floor. Sunlight floods over my warming form. The hollow body of the guitar nestles like a cat in my lap........touching expression. Beautiful poem shared.10
Enjoyed the visit into the foundry of your creative, musical mind,