White Lily
In the churchyard by my home To my mother's grave I often go. I shed my tears then carry on. She is lost. But I am strong. By her grave a lily grows. Pain and death is all it shows.
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In the churchyard by my home To my mother's grave I often go. I shed my tears then carry on. She is lost. But I am strong. By her grave a lily grows. Pain and death is all it shows.
Happy birthday Opuss. You're one year old today, It's the 25th of November, Time to celebrate. Lets prepare the barbecue, Why don't you grab a plate.
Blowing away the cobwebs Shaking off the dust I try to reclaim the writing skills That I carelessly left to rust So Happy Birthday Opuss, And I proud that I can say I am back on Opuss just in...
. . I . (\ F /) You could see how you appear to me. Then you would be so proud.
Part 3. There's a lady who's far from shy. It's the one and only beautiful Fly. I can't help but stare. At her sexy blond hair. But she's out of my league, I sigh.
Raise your glass to Opuss, The app that's one year old. And has helped many a person, To get their story told. To find a creative side, They never knew they had.
It was just an APP then. It was just a brown square. A black PAW PRINT added, And little did I CARE They were just POEMS, then, Words strung TOGETHER. But now it's a FRIEND, Here through all...
It's all very well thanking Opuss On this, its first birthday And it would be rude not to Where else is there for our wordplay.
I can't believe it's been a year, Of poetry and songs, Of novels, stories, sonnets, rhymes, There have been rights and wrongs.
#colourchallenge #ravishmered Some may call it 'scarlet', The colour of stirred blood, The splashing liquid of the vein, Pouring from flesh; a flood.
Oh hello, Opuss. I suppose it's your birthday. Or that's what I've been told. And you got started a year ago today. Making you barely a mere year old.
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Happy birthday Opuss!!!!. I hope this one's the best. Happy birthday Opuss!!!!. You taught me writing is not a contest. Happy birthday Opuss!!!!. You're the app I love the most.
Oh my dearest Opuss, Oh what a year it's been. The friends I have encountered, The things I've read I have seen. Oh my dearest Opuss, In one year we've become more than friends.
. Yes. my 500th post coincides with Opuss's birthday So it's a great double celebration for me. Hip hip hip hooray.
Like butterflies cascading lines that draw across the sky printed boldly all over town striking the skyline down. It's you. It's me. It's all I'm thinking.
Is there such thing as mates of the soul,. Someone who makes your life feel entirely whole,. Like a jigsaw puzzle with one missing piece,. The one who's got the missing part and the lease,.
I may be a cow, But I have dreams too. I'm going to fly, If that's what I die trying to do. I'll hug in my feet, I'll lift off the ground. I'm as sure that I will fly, As I'm heaven bound.
It's almost time to celebrate To spread the joy and forget the hate A special day in Opussian lore Can anyone remember what we did before.
One cut Two cuts Three cuts, four Come now, dear What's one more.
♪♪ Night is blue night is cold. Night is beautiful with one soul. Demons and angels sing at night singing their dreams at the souls who carry gold. Through the winter cold.
The tide reflects my love for you Flowing back and forth through time The moonlight skims the water anew An effervescent wave to climb The sand beneath my feet, water lapping at my toes Your...
A sliver of the moon, Half full in the sky. White, fluorescent light, Lit up as I walk by. Shiny circle of hope, Hanging up above. The air prickles with happiness, Anticipation, love.
One; the gentle, loving kind, A soft compress of heart and mind. Two; the fierce, consuming love, You say you both fit like a glove.