Sara Orange-Tip Was Here
By Silver Spun Sand
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I feel that I remember this
I feel that I remember this lovely poem - so fragile in the making, like those delicate wings of the butterfly and her memory that means so much.
'Forget her?
Simpler, by far, to straighten
a rainbow, bring peace to the Gaza Strip...
convince bears they’re not mad about honey.' - that's beauty!
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Like a warm, sleepy southern
Like a warm, sleepy southern drawl
dawn arrives; wafted here by a primrose wind
white-winged, she stutters in.
That first stanza was so beautiful, it set the scene for the rest of the poem...perfect.
Very much enjoyed reading Tina.
Jenny.
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Tina, I missed this yesterday
Tina, I missed this yesterday – did you mean to put it in the 'story' section rather than 'poetry'?
it's so nice to concentrate the readers' minds on the beauty and intricacy of such a small creature, and the overflowing adjectives help that! Rhiannon
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