Oh, the numbers of months when we're in the womb,
Till the date our life takes on this earth to assume,
Oh, the numbers we learn on our fingers and toes,
And we try to make music wherever we go.
The number of sheep before sleep in our beds,
... – by Beverly George | 87 Views added 10 months ago
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The rainbow, seven celestial expressions shine
Cool misty droplets displaying
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet
My eyes land on that prism in the sky.
I drink in deep hues side by side, bending together contrasting
... – by Beverly J George | 52 Views added 10 months ago
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I placed my clock of Tiffany
Blue stained glass on my vanity.
It's exquisite artistry
Each day delighted me.
A tiny bulb in the case shone
Aqua shades I'd never known
Where I'd gaze into tomorrow
Burning time not mine to... – by Beverly George | 53 Views added 1 year ago
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"Come back South," my mother said on the phone,
"to your people, come back home."
They are my people,
Like rivers moving through continents,
They are my heritage, inheritance,
But I'd been raised up North with judgmental ways
Under scrutiny... – by Beverly George | 48 Views added 1 year ago
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Submerged in slumber
Lying in my room,
Words interact
Ideas zoom,
Constantly shifting
Mercurial moods.
Fresh combinations
Avoiding mundane.
Hot nights of jazz
Cool horns swing with ease,
Prisms of dreams
Dazzle my mind,
Unlikely... – by Beverly George | 48 Views added 1 year ago
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Light switches off
Disrobes the dark.
Like a chicken's neck rings at its demise.
In a black hole in space and time.
I call out my daughter's name,
She answers not in this hospital room as cold
Assumes I'll abandon her to a
Soliloquy of... – by Beverly George | 58 Views added 1 year ago
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Between
Between twilight and mystic dawn
Between hello and I am gone,
Between the Blues and I am Black
Between goodbye and I am back,
Between in-like and "crazy love",
Eyes meet and hearts belong.
There is born a gentle wind
Where... – by Beverly George | 183 Views added 1 year ago
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The world speaks many languages,
Among them
English and Russian,
Passage to their own dramas,
In boxed primary colors.
North, south, east, and west
Spin needles on our compass,
Beyond what we've already seen,
Pointing where we've never... – by Beverly J George | 42 Views added 1 year ago
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