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beneath my dark leaves
beware the thorns
sweet ruby clusters
skin tight and shiny
as rich as the earth I grow in
as sweet as the sun that feeds me
every drop of juice
as precious as the dawn
all you can carry
spread my children
I have given them all I can
GwainGwain tiptoed out of the house into the gray-pink of early dawn, clutching the small, sharp mother-of-pearl handled knife she had purchased the night before.
A pleasant tight feeling of nervous anticipation filled her body as she set out at the slow trot she could keep up for miles, her long braid smacking against her tan back.
She hadn't gone looking for a job, not really.
She, like many other poor kids, had discovered that people threw coins into the ocean by the dock for children to dive and retrieve.
It wasn't her fault if she was really good at it.
There were few afternoons she couldn't be found wearing nothing but an old faded pair of shorts sitting on the dock waiting for someone to toss a coin. She knew that if her mother found out she would be in big trouble, but the docks were a long ways away from her mother's house, and she wouldn't have any spending money at all if she didn't dive.
And besides, begging was better than stealing.
It had been an afternoon like any other, she
To Anyone ListeningI'll be the thunderstorm in your night sky
If you'll just be the moon
Churning my ocean tides
Or I'll be the moon
If you'll be the solid earth
I can orbit around
I'll be a jasmine flower
And scent the night with love for you
If you'll be the rain
To keep me alive
I'll be a seedling
And grow in your love
If you'll be my sun
And warm the soil for me
I'll be yours
If you'll be mine
And love me
I'll love you forever and after
If you'll just be here
When I'm so lonely
And I'll be the thunderstorm in your night sky
If you'll come
And be with me
Hard or soft,
Or in between
I come in many guises
Basically the same
Despite all my disguises.
Or subtle and mild
Or very very bland.
Just milk made thick
By whey removed
And cultures added in.
You may eat me on bread
You may eat me with fruit
I may be sprinkled on your soup
But please pause
And appreciate me
And all the things I do.
I'm busy, it's true
But when I've a minute to think, I think of you.
My sigh when I finally go to bed
The first half, true is tired,
But the second half is lonely for you.
I remember what you say about clouds,
But to me they never look painted
When I look at them
For a minute
Before getting back to work.
I feel the touch of the wind and sun,
And it's nice,
But I want your touch.
My fork traces your name on my plate
I shiver into my chilly bed,
and wish you could help keep it warm.
My muscles ache,
but my heart aches more.
It misses you,
And the muscles just have an unoxidized buildup of acid.
In a room of people talking,
I sit and listen,
And write a poem for you.
I'm worried about managing everything,
I'm worried about fitting in,
I'm worried about making my boss like me,
I'm trying to get enough rest at night
I'm busy and learning and working and tired out...
But there is space in my life for you.
A hole in my life waiting for you.
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More