Falling star

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(c) Google search

Dearest, remember last December night

when a forlorn star fell from the sky?

And even as it beautifully burned,

it left a trail of ashes behind.

You followed the star as it faded from sight

and I followed a tear that rolled down your eye.

Dearest, I had so much to tell you then

but my words were lost in that view

where the star had fallen and died

and I, too, fell and died for you.

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Prophet of arts

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(c) Jeff Barson

He

wasn’t

just

a passing fantasy

inspiring my poetic blues,

he

was

the

chief prophet of arts

teaching muses how to muse.

Dear faraway reader

 
Dear readers
(c) Henry Thomas

Dear faraway reader,

time and again have I pictured you

scrolling by my woeful words

your graceful fingers pausing for a while

your eyes lingering over the lines

a random smile painting your face.

And I have also pictured you

roughly scrolling by

sighing with disappointment

because it wasn’t my poem you were longing for Continue reading