You carry silver stars in your hair I love the feel of your hair on my fingers bare I see the whole universe in the depth of your eyes You leave me breathless, my soul soars to the skies. Your skin radiant like sunlight on meadow Where I bask in the warmth of your inherent glow. Your smile, the charisma of a promise untold Sparking the air like sparkling gold. Your voice soft in its gentleness Falling like whisper upon my skin Leaving my senses on a roller coaster spin. Your quill spins a spell A spelling from the soul The embrace of imagination In the creation of poetry. # Lyric
‘Pon my return, Lady Yasmin, I find the above staring seductively, so much in fact, I made my way downtown just to capture You in a reblog to tutor the couth and the savages of Sanford and further. I grin and have to reach for carpet tacks to keep it upward-climbing ’til it circles past my ears and holds hands at neck;s nape.
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😂🙏🏼♥️
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This from Neck’s Nape (not “neck;s”: hope soon to have time away from transcription duties to spend some hours with you and others who’ve scraped away some of my barnacles past-times: I’ve acquired more such ‘pediments which my own few chuckles crack. Wise of me, neh, to seek stellar services such as yourn?
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So beautiful
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Thank you ☺️
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“in the creation of poetry” I love that line ☺️
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Wonderfully gentle and vibrant words cascading down on me–and lifting up by day!
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Thank you very much, Henry.
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Loved it!
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Thank you 🙏🏼
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a very sensuous write.
Beautiful.👏
🙏
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Thank you so much ☺️
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