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July 7, 2015



My Pen

Thought Spiller

Pain  Eraser

Dream Fulfiller

My Pen

Armour of my insecurity

Harbour of my secrets

My pen,

Deliverer of my existence

On a Rainy April Evening

This is the most perfect evening

When flowers dance in the rain

under the beats of heavens drum

and branches bow as if in prayer

In her old leaves  are fallen

Like the last shed  of winter’s glory

Bringing to a poet’s mind

for tunes of glory swiftly passing        Ah! The wind’s cold embrace

fresh like the spring water

sprinkled on a hot summer day

sweet relief of man’s dismay

This is the most perfect evening

when lover’s hearts blossom again

like each flower that opens

under heavens own grace                    And when the showers had ceased

With every roots still in crystal drips

a warm cup of coffee would be nice

With a friend to share and talk.

An explanation by to this poem.

“April is the cruelest month breeding lilac” T. S. Eliot (WASTE LAND). April is the cruelest month Just JESUS body is then digged by by more nails and blood drops fall are like Rubies fall by glitter on this pinching sunshine in the desert’s soil.Sorry poet can never feel like this that HIM be coward HIs tear falls like Heavy shower may blessed by my daughter just released by towards Her MOTHER’S Home along with a Kinder Child.OH! THE LORD! OH! The sweet rain pour!


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