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Kaylah Gilbert Poem
Long hopes for my bearers fruited comfort, of new soft sins quarreled.
‘Tis lost.
The tree grew,
no caretaker to guide it’s way to the sky.
It’s limbs sprawled and gnarled with contempt and confusion.
One yearns for you’re insight.
Though beyond, the tree will bore it’s supple fruit,
‘Tis fruit will not be lost.
Caretakers will guide their way.
Copyright © Kaylah Gilbert | Year Posted 2011
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Kaylah Gilbert Poem
Need be drowsy my tender paramour,
Ill I am without your sweet slow honey.
Carrying me swiftly, pour through my eager fingers,
Oblige and cast your feasting eyes on mine
Leaving only your slowed sweet honey
Avail those appetent nerves and
Save thine yearning desires and pour through my eager fingers.
Inclining, it is for you, my love.
Lifts and erupts my blessed visage,
Only when one thinks of you.
Vile, your poison is non.
Every touch amorous and honey slow, impatient for the smooth texture.
Yet, honey is thine poison, still.
Offer me quietus, than take my saccharine obsession.
Unabashed, I lament for ticking clocks of time lost with my saccharine honey.
Copyright © Kaylah Gilbert | Year Posted 2011
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Kaylah Gilbert Poem
Memories,
Brush your soft plush against my cheek,
Caress me in daydreams and kiss me at night.
Sweetly smell of lilies,
So pleasure of your company does not leak
And so you heed my emanation on sight.
So she flees,
That once subtle lullaby she must seek,
Charm us with your laughter in flight.
Copyright © Kaylah Gilbert | Year Posted 2011
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Kaylah Gilbert Poem
Trials, we know them,
Eating your soul and forcing silence.
Let one be your witness and your jury.
Leave old grudging regrets swept and left.
Meander your blue black thoughts back to the trials we know
Earnestly, I beg.
Grievously I say:
Onward, silence isn't needed here.
Copyright © Kaylah Gilbert | Year Posted 2011
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