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Pure Magic

poetry is ;

pulling a velveteen rabbit
out of a moth-eaten top hat
to the oohs and awws
of a wide-eyed children’s crowd

words flowing faster
than tongues wagging
from pursed dry lips
begging for a bit of water

poetry is;

flowering in the middle
of some nameless desert’s
shimmering heat precisely 
at high noon

the sparkle of moisture
an illusion pure
without any slight
of human hand

poetry is pure magic
word imagery
without compare

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things