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Monica Smith Poem
He wraps
His words
In flowers
And tenderness
That they might
Come to rest
Gently
In her heart,
Thereby speaking
The unspeakable.
Their sweetness
Lingers long
After
They are whispered,
Sustaining her
Until that time
Copyright © Monica Smith | Year Posted 2005
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Monica Smith Poem
She is exposed,
the last of her finery
released by a cold snap,
leaves in a cluster blown
by a winter born breeze
stirring in the shadows
Paying homage, she bows
fairly kneeling before
the approaching winter solstice,
and flushed with victory,
though seemingly defeated,
begins to weep
For she knows
her restoration lies
in the transient spring
Copyright © Monica Smith | Year Posted 2005
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Details |
Monica Smith Poem
They appeared in the aisle before me
I could not look away, mesmerized
by the shrouds of sparkling silver
that restrained them
Without saying a word
they called my name, in ecstasy
I soared; I was being pursued
and could not resist
they were gods, I was certain
after the first, so I agreed to
the second and liked it, turning back
was no longer possible
I acquiesced—to the desire of the third
thirty minutes of heavenly bliss,
then they left me
with only memories
and a feeling on my tongue
like whipped velvet
I now count the minutes
until my next encounter
with a Three Musketeers bar
Copyright © Monica Smith | Year Posted 2005
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Monica Smith Poem
The raging wind and rain
seem almost musical to me,
as they break and swell, break and swell
in perfect harmony.
At night the sound seems magnified
as it echoes through my mind,
and causes strange imaginings
not unlike a glass of wine!
Excitement wells within me
as I perceive this curious sound.
It strikes a chord of fantasy
seldom ever found.
A little while longer then
and sleep will take its hold,
while the sound escapes to distant shores
and in memory unfold.
Copyright © Monica Smith | Year Posted 2005
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Monica Smith Poem
I long to hold you
until
you melt like warm chocolate
in a warm sun,
until
I am filled
with your sweetness,
until
you know
the truth
of my words,
until
the craving is satisfied,
and I melt like warm chocolate
in a warm sun
Copyright © Monica Smith | Year Posted 2005
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