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Click herePicture these words,presented as art
to be digested and savored,
as multi-syllabic minestrone
complemented with warm bread
good friends and a bottle of wine.
Sometimes I drink my wine alone
and think of places and friends.
I reveal my quirks and passions
with words
so that you might finally know me.
In my life there has been some sadness
puddles of sorrow do exist.
But they gather and form an oasis of joy
and from this lonely, mirrored pond
I am nourished and continue to grow.
You give me fruits and perfumes disguised
as kindness, wisdom and knowledge.
These gifts take root and spring from my soul
in spicy and verdant outbursts of song.
You bloom on empty pages and thrive,
despite the solemn pallor of December's
darkest day. You have fed to me
your tales of forever
and today, oh joyous garden
I will feed you.
Your poems have always made me feel hungry after reading them. ;) Lovely.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 39,000 poems.
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