Victorious Tree

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  • Lost Love

    Victorious Tree

    The spine snaps with a buss,
    And happiness follows bliss
    With a marvelous fuss.

    The caress hits your nape
    And escape leads
    Under the aspen.

    Now blend into the landscape
    And snip the span of pain,
    For your face has ashen,
    However, you remain.

    Now remember,
    Burning with your ember
    Of that long forgotten.

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    To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

    Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)

    bakersdoce’s Poems (5)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Arachne's Direction 1
    Betweem Inferno and Paradise 0
    Victorious Tree 0
    Place For The Hat 0
    The Burning Hedge 0