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Donna Shropshire Caviness Poem
So bashful to the wind the day sets at bay
recollecting the past of the stilled clay,
mounded mind distract the dew
observing the mountains in the view,
combusting in it's self the rain flaws
cold winter winds build it's claws,
to tangle the day amoung the clear
just to await what could be coming near,
golden spokes of torned day
breaks the path of wilted frey.
Copyright © Donna Shropshire Caviness | Year Posted 2012
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Donna Shropshire Caviness Poem
She gathered her heart
on a lymb of urgency,
while he scattered the path
of deminishing mercery.
Scooping the day
up in a painful dust,
she withered away
from his heart of rust.
Her love was left behind
but only to love again,
as he took their love
and chocked it to the end.
Copyright © Donna Shropshire Caviness | Year Posted 2012
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Donna Shropshire Caviness Poem
Searching for a release, an explosive burst in my head. Pondering among my non-escapes, I collide with myself existence. "Why, so sad?", I ask myself, then fall into seclusion.
Copyright © Donna Shropshire Caviness | Year Posted 2012
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