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Grounding me, similar to the acts of a ship’s anchor You are my stability. Anxiously waiting to hit land,  We met,  like wave greeting beach
Benny’s Biography By: Alexis Seith   im a kind and carefreey kiddo, and my name is benny hyde. im sory for my speling but, you see, im only 5. my brother-he’s in first grade
The clouds roll in, and the breeze blows by. Just before the rain.   I can smell the earth, and taste the sky.
Dear Camp Berachah, Words cannot describe how much you’ve done for me.
Looking at the tree,Under the branches and leaves,Leaf lands on my head.
Summer comes as sweet as the strawberries in the front yard  do, In the full swing of June swelling with intangible flavor. The plant starts bitter in late April when it is tucked into the soft earth.
Lines composed during a walk from Highgate to Hampstead Heath  1991   It has been a day for wandering beneath this sky of early spring
The way that the sun sets and the sky looks as if it’s on fire, Sitting on the edge looking down endless rows of trees and wanting to be even higher,  
Enveloped in a world of adventure, left to relinquish control and trust our own glorious instinct, leaving our monotonous lives behind to discover a literal path,  a path in which we can let our minds explore. 
Fresh mountain air, The chill in my lungs, Rushes over my tongue, Prickles my hair, There’s something reviving about being up there.  
I am confused and loosing focus  The stress of daily life engulfs  I look out the massive clear window to my left  I see a couple jogging side by side, laughing That is when idea strikes! 
Mountains and canyons beyond what eyes can see The clay earth beneath is subliminally icy Misty air follows me along the path I savor its taste as it swirls in wrath
The meadow comes awake at the end of the day Lighting up the sky bright fireflies That summer breeze puts me at ease Campfire life with friends by my side Hey eh oh, oo ah Hey eh oh, oo ah
Hot cocoa burned Lesson learned Rotten milk Blanket of silk Flightless birds Spoken words Chilly night Candle light Chocolate tainted A prank elated Laughter, smiles
Take a look around you.Do you see the starlight?Do you see the owl whoFlies solo in the night?  
mountain high  valley low orange leaves earthy scent sheer beauty mother nature wondrous creation foggy sunrises slanting sunlight the edge of forever gentle slope
I'm Me for a few reasons to be the one who loves all four seasons I'm either in the mountains or in the flint hills fishing or biking, whatever gives me the most thrills I'm with my dad with a gun in my hands
It's that time of year again, when the duck migration does begin. Shotguns, waders, and shells, ready to hunt the flooded rice fields. Opening morning sunrise, signals the ducks early surprise.
All signs read, great hunting ahead. The rut was beginning, in the woods I was hunting. The deer were a moving, they need not be hiding. Acorns were a dropping, many a deer came running.
Out into the woods I walk I dont even dare to talk As I hear the sound of a duck I look around only to see a nice eight-point buck And as I feel the old worn bark of an oak
I wake up swearing I have to do better soon. My waistline suffers abuse, but I always plan to do better, tommorow . I choose to waste days away in front of a favorite channel.
BLOTCHES FROM A COLORFUL CANVAS   With blue the world is draped, and with its hue my soul delights, From whitewashed shores on dripping edges of roaring sounds, 
  Far from reality Toward God’s whispers Over distant gray mountains Beside azure lakes Far from mint grasses
Here I sit in the dark, alone and cold. The rain and wind, pounding the blind, don’t stop. The blind sways and creeks, acting as if old. The bait sits waiting, the cream of the crop.  
Cold, bitter cold. It slices beneath the coat, Freezing, Biting, Stinging.   Pain, dull pain. The ground slashes hard, Aching, Jarring, Straining.  
We’ve seen death. We’ve experienced what the clueless would call “murder”. We’ve felt every emotion possible After that trigger was pulled, Or that arrow was released. The others, they don’t understand,
The birds nest mint, green foliage flutters spring, life, growth The birds fly  sun shines, storms blow  summer, heat, strength The birds migrate crisp, ochre leaves swirl to the ground
Concrete wasn’t always made so harsh and solid In fact it was mostly straw When I walk without my shoes on It rubs my poor feet raw
The months stretch on, I Have no choice Enter the snowboarding movie In my mind’s eye I keep them, Never far away Wonderful and simple Alone in the trees Riding on the Dark Side of the Moon
With sand white as snow Waters crystal blue sparkle The salty air blows. Music playing loud Their sweat dripping from their brow Players sense the crowd
I can't remove the sap, with spots of dust and needles clinging to my love and life lines.
The sky is dark and haunting. It speaks with a voice that echoes across the world in omnipotent waves, forcing the weak into the shadows. Pockets of grey precipitation are illuminated intermittently by a heavenly source.
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