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Please close your eyes dear lady,
And envision the joys of love.
If you try real hard then maybe,
Your heart will fly like a dove.

With a leopard skin quilt cover,
You rest your soft smooth limbs.
You close your eyes then wander,
With happiness you feel content.

You see yourself in a gown,
With roses all around.
Attached on a thorn green stem,
You see a sparkling gem.

Such words of intimate promise.
You know it's real, for you can feel,
Your love is alive with his.

Again your eyes are focused,
As you lay with skin exposed.
An entrance in your wall does open,
Your body with the stars transposed.

A night of a shielded armor,
So gallant of silver he stands
He offers you this garment,
And a rose within his hand.

Cradling your cheeks, asking please.
May we share our hearts as one.
With a tear you say, I will stay
Together we will share the sun.

This vision a dream, that it seems.
In your mind it feels so close.
Of love and romance, is there a chance,
Only your heart can say it knows.

So close your eyes dear lady,
And touch the skin you hold.
For in your heart just maybe,
It is him your wishes could hold.

Now envision the stars up high.
You dream of love and cry.
At last romance it seems
In Content asleep you dream.

By T.A.S. (Poeticer)©


Entrapment of cultures denied of their freedoms,
constant abasement apparently no reasons.
Will the Chariots come take them home.

With centuries of denial through the passages of time,
history has shown them such hideous crimes.
Their liberty of denial was born.

So I share with you a vision of their final day,
I share with you what wishes they hold.
Outlasted alone they all gather to pray,
for the spirits to come take them home.

With winged flying angels upon roof top peaks.
inside wooded gold chariots of wheels.
Guided by stallions with hoofed black feet,
to save them from such evil and heal.

Slowly in content with a doctor at hand,
he knows his last breath is saved.
With the spirits all around all is now grand,
his path to the heavens is paved.



As the evening awakes its final glow, 
the moon is clearly shown.
Highlighting tree tops so high they stand,
So awesomely majestically so grand.

With the screeching of the owls,
and the wolves as they howl,
This forest so rich of life.

While the birds find their nest,
and the bears now can rest,
Together in the woods at night.

Now a change was to be,
on this night in the breeze.
It halted the survival of all.

This evening in the trees,
a tragedy changed the leaves,
And the grass and all that crawled.

A campfire was spotted and a flame enlightened,
within minutes devastation was clear.
Two elks were near by then decided to stride,
towards a river in total fear.

Within moments this fire was reaching much higher,
climbing the pines with speed.
The bears and the birds and the wolves can be heard,
while racing to the river to be.

Some first do arrive and together they hide,
two elks in the water they stood.
Such burning of the grounds and screeching of sounds,
they must survive but without any food.

As the time slowly passed,
while the woods showed this mask,
of the flames covering the earth.

Only few have lived on,
the stronger gave sounds,
Of anger of this evil flamed birth.

Why must all this end.
Why must all this die.
Why man caused this sin.
Why create such a crime.

If we treat the woods like our homes if we could,
no litter would lay upon her.
If we are careful of the fires in campgrounds within there,
the animals will not loose no fur.

So remember we're a guest when entering this nest,
that nature so humbly gives us.
Please be gentle with this shrine then nature will be fine,
Why burn it to an ashley dust.

T.A.S. (poeticer)©


Reflected lights, window shade night,

In a room by the street side cafe.
Sounds that are heard, mumbling of words,
All alone of which he stays.

Awakened of sounds, noises all around,
a city that never sleeps.
A full moon it shines, on the window shade blinds,
This city has stolen his dreams.

With a silhouette in view, outlined in blue,
and highlights of purplish bright.
This image of a face, a woman's it does trace,
on the glass within the night.

Moments pass by, as your eyes will find,
serenity asleep in peace.
With a face on the glass, and the noises that pass,
atlas late at night you sleep.