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  • Emotional

    untitled

    Shimmering lights of blue and silver
    Sparkling green and red ornaments
    Lusciously enveloped a Victorian Christmas Tree
    Our thoughts busy without glee
    To sun-drenched islands they flee
    The warmth of the stove,
    The glimmer of glasses
    Dry flowers in their appropriate vases
    Your eyes meet mine
    Together we blink twice
    You touch my hands so warm and discreet
    In an empty dark bedroom we meet
    To linger for a brief time
    Knowing that happiness is worth a dime
    A dozen times we swear our love
    A pink ribbon carried in the beak of the dove
    The light stays on bright.

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    katia’s Poems (6)

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    Living Transformer of Love 1
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