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She walks by night By daylight and Twilight Step silent across gravel roads cobble streets The girl in the flannel skirt She doesn't eat or drink or sleep She simply breathes
Rain in the summer. Listen to the pattering, Fresh and reviving.
To my nose she was a stick of incense. Filling me whole, her eyes. The ashes fell, Spacing her walk. With smoke closely trailing. The sun quickly set. There's no where in the world I'd rather be.
Will this madness ever subside, Really am not so sure. Many a times I've tried to relax, Only to whack the living room door.   Really need to get some sleep, What is it I need to do?
Each and every snowflake is different from the others. There is something calming about standing outside and watching the snowfall.
Bright Sunny Clean Runny It can be blinding, or it can be mellow. The sun’s blissful, golden, daisy flower yellow.  
When I am feeling down, I close my eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. My bare feet cling to the mat as I stretch, hoping to remain still as to avoid exercise, but I push on. Upward cat, downward dog.
Sometimes, life can feel a little slow A lot of people are only worried about one thing. Dough. Sometimes this makes you happy But more times than not, it makes you snappy. I, however, like to focus on my life
Trekking to the world's edge With a good sister and friend To see what lies around corner, To peek around the sandy bend. Ambling in the stretch Where earth and water are one,
On the back porch looking out of the screen There is beauty that is before my eyes, with The green hills that span miles and miles. A Southern Delicacy
Feeling the warmth spread throughout your body, and the peace that flows quick after, the love that overwhelms your chest,
Bring me the sunset in a cup so I can drink it in. So it can saturate my darkened body with warmth.  So beauty can fight the ugly in me.
Wherever I am, As long as I’m out, Over the blue waters I go To catch some trout.   But never after a full moon. That’s when they have their feasts. With the moonlight shining over the water,
TO FISH OR NOT TO FISH? That is the question… Every redneck as himself on Saturday morning when its not, I repeat; Because this is important. It cannot be hunting season. That will trump everything.
The rain dropsnot from the clouds,but from the Heavens above.They drip from the treetopsand drop from each branchand nestle into leaves,glisten on webs woven tight fromspiders at night,
I jaunt to my tree.  I feel happy while I sit. I reminisce there.
A hug in a cup, The steam rises, Soothes my soul, Calms my fears which never leave As I hope for tomorrow, My lips at the brim, The warmth rushes and hydrates, Replenishing the comfort,
Warm scents fill the air Fall is here, thanksgiving is near But first kids dress up and play And in search of candy, hunt the night away The leaves are falling and the air is sweet
Lounging on a park bench, thinking back to my childhood days, I’m reminded of myself and my playful ways. Facetious, amused, lacking the demand for major decisions, Every feeling and moment hard to envision.
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