Whisperings

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My mind, what will I do?
He’s all I think about,
And nothing I had planned.
He’s water glossing over my skin,
And the comfort of the wind.
The smell of summer,
Yet, cool mountain air.
Allow him my heart,
I sigh, do I even dare?
He’s the sound of bullfrogs,
Late at night, while I dream.
Perfect words and lovely pitch,
And he whispers just for me.

Afraid

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Reaching out onto a trail way,
Quietly, she blooms,
Bashful, as always,
Appearing, however, for you.

Rain settling in again today.

Visioning you here, always,
Wandering about her scent,
She carries your tender touch,
As she delicately sways.

Your offer, lingering upon her branch.

Desiring her simple colored hue,
Nature’s best effort shown,
And your sweet yellow delight,
Will she continue here, proving growth?

Or shy away, afraid of the light.

A Way About Her

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She has a way about her,
That’s what they’ve always said.
Blushes from the inside out,
Does it to herself, often, she dreads.
Others noticing, believing she naive,
What they’ve failed to catch,
All along, is her authenticity.
Along with the hints, and whisperings,
Just now being perceived.
Tips full of sunshine,
With a body full of hopes and dreams.