Sweet though these wings of the wild
they soar as if they have fire in them
their crimson tongues have buds
of tastes that digest yellow dreams.
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... brilliant and reassuring, a rare concept of mystic convergence with lines penned down by a poet in emergence...well written.A frank 10 for you Mr Samson..
deep thought, , , song of songs, , and the emptiness, , , , well written
samson - and when I lay at night on the lake in the dark. I lose my boundaries. The waves become my toes, and the heavens become my fingers. Blessings to you - Cheryl