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mylifeslens.blogspot.com

My Life's Lens

Saturday, June 25, 2016. Hushed and gentle words aright. I would speak into your heart. Beside the pulsing tide and moonlight. Would a tender whisper. A kiss on the forehead. Put a wind in your sails and mine. So we could glide into the day’s ending time. I wonder about soft lace. If we would embrace. Would I watch our footprints behind us? Disappearing back into the sea. Or would I shut my eyes, ever so tightly. Would the tender breeze from the sea. Stir wisps of your hair into your entrancing stare.

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My Life's Lens | mylifeslens.blogspot.com Reviews
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Saturday, June 25, 2016. Hushed and gentle words aright. I would speak into your heart. Beside the pulsing tide and moonlight. Would a tender whisper. A kiss on the forehead. Put a wind in your sails and mine. So we could glide into the day’s ending time. I wonder about soft lace. If we would embrace. Would I watch our footprints behind us? Disappearing back into the sea. Or would I shut my eyes, ever so tightly. Would the tender breeze from the sea. Stir wisps of your hair into your entrancing stare.
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1 my life's lens
2 warm aspirations
3 your surrendered touch
4 posted by
5 eric von rohr
6 email this
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My Life's Lens | mylifeslens.blogspot.com Reviews

https://mylifeslens.blogspot.com

Saturday, June 25, 2016. Hushed and gentle words aright. I would speak into your heart. Beside the pulsing tide and moonlight. Would a tender whisper. A kiss on the forehead. Put a wind in your sails and mine. So we could glide into the day’s ending time. I wonder about soft lace. If we would embrace. Would I watch our footprints behind us? Disappearing back into the sea. Or would I shut my eyes, ever so tightly. Would the tender breeze from the sea. Stir wisps of your hair into your entrancing stare.

INTERNAL PAGES

mylifeslens.blogspot.com mylifeslens.blogspot.com
1

My Life's Lens: March 2014

http://mylifeslens.blogspot.com/2014_03_01_archive.html

Tuesday, March 18, 2014. Beyond Wild Blue Yonder. Roll back the sky Oh Lord. Peel back the wild blue yonder. That I may receive a diminutive glimpse. Of your Heavenly throne room. Let the clouds caught in vacuity drawn. This bright vivid sun blotted out. Drowned out by your magnificent brilliant glory. Kneel will I at your throne. Unable to glance up, your brilliance, your love too intense. But I see the scars in your feet Oh my King. Twenty four elders bow, cast their crowns before thee. And as all this...

2

My Life's Lens: October 2014

http://mylifeslens.blogspot.com/2014_10_01_archive.html

Thursday, October 2, 2014. The Great Orchestral Shooting Star Experiment. Blissful notes expel from the orchestra. Skimming above the trees. Becomes an overhead bazaar. Above violins and other instruments. The nocturnal sky breathing, reaches its peak. An enchanted orchestral galaxy. We came and gathered to seek. With notes entwined play in the gust. A conductor’s composition flung. Through the colored constellation over us. Fireflies like darting sparklers glow. For fear of missing more, we ran. We do n...

3

My Life's Lens: Too Grey And Close To Blue

http://mylifeslens.blogspot.com/2015/06/too-grey-and-close-to-blue.html

Tuesday, June 9, 2015. Too Grey And Close To Blue. I am on my way to catch that ray of the sun. That some have already begun to feel. Under a blue sky veiled by grey. But how can I see with sight within the heart. When my revolution clings. With a civil war going on in the inside. Tending to peer within. Looking for my shadows in seasons past. I banter wits with the winds narration. Its resolve always pushing to the future, always tomorrow. In its reveal, it’s constant, a promise taken for granted.

4

My Life's Lens: May 2015

http://mylifeslens.blogspot.com/2015_05_01_archive.html

Monday, May 11, 2015. Where Dreams Go To Die. Ah…that would be us, the human being. This is where dreams go to die. That never ending pursuit of happiness. Dangled emotional puppet strings in obverse of us. We all desire to be loved, to create, desire, inspire, and accomplish. It springs forth like an oasis. But inevitably a mirage. From our first cries from the womb to our last throes of breath. While attainable degrees exist. Our upbringing, decisions, acts of will upon us. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).

5

My Life's Lens: November 2014

http://mylifeslens.blogspot.com/2014_11_01_archive.html

Monday, November 17, 2014. Birds In The Nest. The baby birds in the nest. At the sound of the their cries. Mama bird was not in a good mood. But she flew anyway to look for food. Up to the sky she flew. When you saw her feathers they were blue. Gathering up worms to eat. She would grab them with her feet. Back to the nest she went. The babies could smell her scent. All nestled and well fed. It was time for all to go to bed. Written by my 11 yr old daughter JJ). Winding Is This Path Of Life. A state of un...

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My Life's Lens

Saturday, June 25, 2016. Hushed and gentle words aright. I would speak into your heart. Beside the pulsing tide and moonlight. Would a tender whisper. A kiss on the forehead. Put a wind in your sails and mine. So we could glide into the day’s ending time. I wonder about soft lace. If we would embrace. Would I watch our footprints behind us? Disappearing back into the sea. Or would I shut my eyes, ever so tightly. Would the tender breeze from the sea. Stir wisps of your hair into your entrancing stare.

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