Laurent-Perrier cuvée brut,
Moet et Chandon follows suit,
Nicolas Feuillatte: brand is moot!
Only Krug is banned (too much loot).
Pommery, you will agree, is beaut!
These memoriesI try to bury never Go away,
These burdens that I have to carry,
haunt me everyday, I gave that girl my soul,
and my heart she went and stole,
it seems thateven love, will always take it's toll ,
I remember that day, when she looked me in the eye ,
Turned right around and never said goodbye.
Itd like I learned right then,That nothin lasts forever,
like a moment lost in time, that youl always treasure
I fall apart at night, lost inmoonlight,
Waiting for the sun to come and reignite,
I've become an empty shell, it's not hard to tell
I could really use some help, or a wishing well.
I Got so many bad habits , I took to many tablets,
now I'm here with an empty medicine cabinet.
Il put my pain in these words ,
and hope it never returns
And try to go and heal from all of lifes burns.
I look at up the stars that circle round mars
while I try to remember , There's beaut
{“There are junctures where you pay the price of someone else’s Sins, through heredity, through kin, sometimes even through friends you once thought were your ultimatum, the very ones that you believe in. Sometimes, more than yourself.
The end you come to will be that of blaming yourself on assets that don’t even concern you, or revolve around you. Acceptance means coming to a conclusion, from the deep depths of your own being. Which is already difficult as it is for your soul to confine and or even to consider- that not everything can be your fault.
So, beaut muse.
It’s out of your hands, don’t cry your heart out, nobody will hear, and nobody will discern. It is not worth it, because
It’s not even your fault.
And I would ask you why you are plaguing yourself in such situations as I have done before.
And I know you won’t even be able to nourish a response right away, all because your sentiments are too high, and they endlessly torture you.”}
I'd love to call you sweetheart
I would be so proud
To walk beside you down the street
And watch the gazing crowd
So beautiful to look at
All eyes are fixed on you
But I'm the one who holds your hand
While gazing at you too
"Alright beaut?"
The landlady said
As she poured a fresh pint
Of Ale for our Fred
"Hangin" said Fred
As he supped at his beer
"I been working all week
Restoring that pier"
Nice little earner
For someone, you see
Brings all the punters
Down to the sea
Property prices
Will go through the roof
But will be much too high
For Gethin and Ruth
They'll be displaced
Just over the border
In cheap rundown flats
Where others marauder
What a beaut!
My mind silently, hopefully aspires,
As you made me terribly perspire,
I am now having troubles to respire.
What a healing!
As my heart cried for your uncommon love,
I was healed by the briefs of your laughs,
All along my eyes were covered with sloughs.
What a beauty!
My eyes instantly exclaimed,
Mine surely one of the many acclaims,
Going, by what your gestures proclaimed.
What a feeling!
As you made your love available for me to trust,
You instantly cured me of my past lusts,
Your love would have been the most painful I lost.
Tell me about your hobby in 8-20 lines of rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Tania Kitchin
I remember the days of flying a kite
Watching the dragon I made taking flight
It would twist and turn and soar
As it takes to the sky with a roar
A ball of string held the dragon tight
As it leaped with all its might
Up, up, and away, passing the tall trees
It sailed with the wind and breeze
From a distance, I watched in awe
But its long flowing tail is all I saw
The colorful tail was as long as our yard
Onlookers said my hobby was starred
I painted with the colors of the rainbow
Where his body and tail were a beaut
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet
For my dragon came in peace and wasn't violent
To this day I still take the dragon for a walk
Up, up, and away he sill loves to rock
That hobby has aged since I was ten
Yet it never gets old to feel young again
Academy Night
Actor's delight
Oscars night
Talent fight
Red carpet
Posers market
Look beaut
Penguin suit
Couture dress
Looks a mess
Premier
First affair
Accept award
They applaud
Eat dinner
Congratulate winner
Best actor
Talent factor
Producer's groovy
Best movie
Winning star
Will go far
Nights end
Egos to mend
The birds sing to the note of her voice
The earth blushes at the smile on her face
The roses blossom at the flow of her beaut
The waves sway at the wriggle of her waist
She's truly the tingling in his heart
A purely desired place is where he's at
A thousand miles isn't enough to walk
A million hurdles isn't enough to work
A battalion of soldiers won't bid me stop
A bevy of pretty ladies won't bid me flop
To get to her to tell her my soul
I love you! I love you! O this I know
Her love is so sweet, so tender, so mild
In the warmth of your embrace, I'll rest like a child
I’m jonesing for an Aviron,
a name you likely do not know,
but they have really come along
and made a splash in game-based rows.
I’ll set a course for Avalon,
or play a game of Breaker now,
or stream a YouTube video,
or try to beat a pro somehow.
Or coaching tips from Training Tall,
or Power Play, while racing friends,
or live compete community;
it seems the options never end.
I mostly want to just work out,
receive some guidance on the way;
it all gives pause to hesitant,
for it is quite a lot to pay.
My goal: get strong and stay outside,
but weights have never been my suit;
this Aviron looks bona fide,
and feature-laden, she’s a beaut.
Crocuses blooming,
Winter has given to spring,
Trees with buds again.
Who is he? They were asking in Montana, Bandicoot.
It was Mr. Electric Blue spider, and he was a beaut.
He kept creeping along, pretending he did not understand.
Besides, he was on his way to hear a Mariachi Band.
Seriously, do you know him? My neighbor asked me.
I thought she was too curious, we call her Widow Zee.
He’s an out-of-towner, a stranger, I said in my best voice.
I hear that he is a widow man, his deceased wife was Joyce.
I know, by count, you’re well aware
the dazzled heads that spin to stare
such grace and curves and utmost charm
you’ve deigned to hang upon my arm …
but, do not spare your time to waste
that brand of sweet - not quite my taste
besides, you’ve found a love, most true -
that mirrored beaut you rendezvous …
the perfect couple … you and you.
She's a beaut, but also a brute.
She always gives others "the boot."
Writing cute with words of beaut
He lifts me up with prose,
Preaches words of wisdom
I ate when heard transpose.
For never wrong to sing a song
From heart with all good mind,
Hence often read all of his
Digest and then rewind...
To the start my eyes do dart
Restoring appetite,
Vision with optimism
Bringing much delight.
Spiritual poetry
Soothing sacred soul,
Admire and aspire..
To better is the goal.
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