Best Seater Poems

As we rose on wings
The earth falling below fast
On wings of eagle 
Feeling as higher at last
Beauty of Canyon below...

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There’s something mysterious;
I hope it’s not serious:
my muse will not write when I row.

She’s no river daughter;
it’s time that I taught her
that water and words can both flow.

Bereft of her musing,
the rhymes are confusing;
ideas just don’t spring to mind.

Who cares where she’s headed?
My abs are...

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