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The gift

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Below is the poem entitled The gift which was written by poet Son Winter. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The gift

Seconds of a glance, hours of speech, days of embrace, months of thoughts, years of 
binding to be. The sky above dazzles with influences of the sun"s light of warm inspiration. 
Souls mingle, bodies collide intimately, and breaths of passion are exchanged. A smile 
reflects the mood in a day, a kiss seals the deal.
Trees dance and bushes wiggle, the grass sways with the wind like the thoughts of the 
previous day of the sun"s influence. A sniff of perfume left upon satin sheets as wind through 
an open window on a windy day skimmers across the bed. A thought reflects the memories 
as hope peeks at the future.
Piddle paddle is the language spoken as rain speaks to the windows it falls upon. The same 
rain which speaks words of growth and slight despair, yet washes away despair with three 
drops that are repeated a million times over. Tiny speckles of motion that admit to passion 
as well as contrite. A hand on a stomach, a face seen within a puddle reflects the coming.
Further into the season of life a cold white blanket covers existence, the bodies of the in-
organic and the mood of the organic. Men are made from this same white blanket to laugh 
with children. Yes, the children who enjoy the priveledge of earth"s winter blanket. So a hug 
reflects the warmth of two that will soon become three.
A time of pain for the benefit, the benefit of pain for a time as the siblings hail and sleet play 
a little rough on all in its path. A pressure that must be endured, a pain that opens the path 
for blessing. A tear as the reflection of the pain and happiness to come and go, to be and be 
no more.
Slightly water again spills from the heavens as a means to drizzle away that which has been 
endured for the sake of it all. Abducted by a breeze carrying the smell of inspiration,and the 
light touch of satisfaction. A well deserved rest reflects the passion of strain and an awaiting 
becomes the begining.
The rest is recovered from, the strain is achieved and completed. Eight motions of life and 
atmosphere have been seen through by grace. All along allowing a ninth motion that brings 
forth a rainbow... A rainbow of life... A child is born... A gift has been given!

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  1. Date: 8/30/2011 2:16:00 PM
    Ronel, If you will look on the left side of PoetrySoup pages you will see toward the bottom Resources. There you will find what you are looking for to decide on the form etc: of your poetry. I hope this will help you. Love, Carol P.S. I do not mind helping anyone if I can.

  1. Date: 12/7/2010 10:24:00 AM
    I enjoyed reading your poetry today Ronel. Hope to be reading it for a long time to come. Thank you for sharing it. Love, Carol