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She was only obliquely referenced to,a single line, writ thinly on the flyleafof a treasured book, slipping throughtime and fingers, that so delicatet..
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Half the world is fat,half the world is thinand half the world isstill locked out, stilltrying to get in.And the flicker flame of conscienceis that al..
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A poem for Edward. You are remembered now always
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Friday night andhigh heels tempt,nails red as blood,lip gloss outshinesthe setting sun;a practised look,hair falling,ingenue.Sunday in the park,we wal..
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She never really liked dolls,or play learning to cook;Instead, like some distant childof the gods, she dreamed long hoursaway in the garden, preferrin..
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We are all the product of fusion,intentional or otherwise,the choice of when such anevent occurs, always quiteHobson in its option.Thus, when retro de..
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She stands, waiting,wondering, will hetake me to lunch first?He smiles and takesher hand. Palms pressand she smiles back.See, see how he loves me.Ther..
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I saw them in the window,they were beckoning to me,high heeled, black and seductive,And I thought - 'Oh Wow! Sexy!'Then I paused just for a moment,loo..
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Under standards set by the Worldcouncil for conformity, you are beautiful.An unblemished apple in an orchard mostlyhung heavy on the bough with the bl..
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On a early morning walk through the beautiful Gwydir forest in Wales.
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