tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397107296306118422024-03-12T18:32:56.860-07:00Poetry: not a dirty wordVivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-18053165184109480642017-05-04T18:57:00.004-07:002017-08-08T21:55:04.342-07:00Sheets in the Wind<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /><br /><span style="font-size: small;">Keep tight thy sheets, look not his way.<br />His eyes, intoxicating.<br />Remember how to keep control.<br />His lips, exhilarating!<br /><br />The second sheet, now unsecured.<br />My heartbeat spins the floor.<br />His breath, the wind, it moves my hair.<br />And I resist no more.<br /><br />All three sheets have now gone slack.<br />His kiss, a sweet flashback.<br />Blowing in the wind, my sails--<br />and now we're back on track! <br /><br />( c ) Deborah A Andreas, May, 4, 2017</span></span>Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-50682240659385517582017-03-26T20:26:00.000-07:002017-03-26T20:26:46.426-07:00DarkThe waning moon is but a bit of a crescent<br />
and the rain, a perfect disguise for tears.<br />
In all that one can learn from books<br />
still never seems to stop the growing fears.<br />
<br />
The head, it aches and sleep restrains itself<br />
till one can think no more.<br />
And when the brain no longer thinks<br />
it's time to go to sleep. Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-59831047555920253422017-01-12T21:44:00.002-08:002017-01-13T22:41:32.911-08:00Pumpkin PoemAll was well on the eve<br />
of the full moon.<br />
My gown flowed, <br />
my shoes fit,<br />
the page was fresh--<br />
and the pen was new.<br />
<br />
It was a ball!<br />
<br />
I danced and danced<br />
to the upbeat sounds,<br />
the music was all around<br />
but I didn't hear the sound--<br />
<br />
of the clock as it struck twelve!<br />
<br />
In a panic I ran as fast as I could<br />
in those darn high heeled glass shoes.<br />
Down the winding stair case<br />
and out the giant doors--<br />
<br />
only to find that 8675-309 was disconnected!<br />
<br />
<br />
( c ) Deborah A Andreas Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-24424014806904199882016-12-06T20:03:00.000-08:002016-12-06T20:20:08.980-08:00Honey, I'm HomeHow dreary this cold December night,<br />
chilling me to the bone, that I find my way home.<br />
<br />
I've been lost, wandering through the seasons<br />
looking for the words, the words to bring us home.<br />
<br />
We've both scattered like crisp Autumn leaves<br />
blowing in the wind and loosing our way.<br />
<br />
How delicate we've become as we age like fine wine,<br />
and the calendar pages cease to turn in our silence.<br />
<br />
After all this time, I find I pine for words, now invisible,<br />
that used to fill these pages.<br />
<br />
Come down from flight, dear bard of mine<br />
and share a line or two.<br />
<br />
The songs we sang so long ago still echo in my head,<br />
like the melody of tapping rain drops.<br />
<br />
For now these words will sit upon this page<br />
in their unseen weary presence.<br />
<br />
<br />
( c ) Deborah A Andreas 12/2016 <br />
<br />
<br />Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-50809302489125223602014-09-14T08:19:00.003-07:002014-09-14T08:19:25.258-07:00Tea For Two; Somewhere<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Out of the shadows a romantic story emerges<br />
of two souls destine to find love.<br />
It's true, so many stories of romance have been written<br />
that one could make a noose for the world with them.<br />
But love is a very funny thing and as you know<br />
you can hate someone you love<br />
and love someone you hate.<br />
<br />
Many times over and over again love is misunderstood<br />
and many are stood up and many have missed the boat.<br />
Still, can one live without it?<br />
Men are driven to insanity over and from women...<br />
and women, well, yeah, you already know the story.<br />
<br />
So another love story to gag on is in the making...<br />
did I loose you yet?<br />
Perhaps I did, but a least my shadow is still here,<br />
waiting right next to me as I sit at a quaint little<br />
bistro table at an outside cafe just waiting to order.<br />
"Madame, may I take your order?"<br />
" Not just yet, sir, I am hoping to order tea for two"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
( From my book, Water's Edge...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
contact me if you'd like to purchase a copy. ) </div>
Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-41151743109191471742014-08-03T16:30:00.002-07:002014-08-03T16:31:00.203-07:00Missing Your Poetry! .<br />
<br />
!<br />
<br />
, ...<br />
<br />
.<br />
<br />
!<br />
<br />
<br />Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-13404640941569115852013-03-05T08:43:00.001-08:002013-03-05T08:43:39.422-08:00When You're Away<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">When you're away</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">my eyes lack passion and
their gleam.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">When you're away</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">my rhymes are forced, my
words cliche.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">But then you whisper
in a dream.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Though we're apart, we're
still a team.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">When you're away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-86580184577017736792013-01-10T18:58:00.002-08:002013-01-10T18:58:46.698-08:00Sip of Coffee<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am but a sip of coffee,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
sweetened with honey</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
in your mind's world</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
of vivid dreams</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and poetry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zCVxwTvv1o4/UO9_2aykRsI/AAAAAAAACBc/mpk1V-zyvCk/s1600/Coffee+window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zCVxwTvv1o4/UO9_2aykRsI/AAAAAAAACBc/mpk1V-zyvCk/s320/Coffee+window.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-27936696867746136622013-01-09T21:17:00.001-08:002013-01-09T21:17:13.785-08:00The Finch<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">You were all mine, for one short night<br />
O yellow breasted bird.<br />
You lost your way and fell from flight.<br />
Your song was never heard.<br />
<br />
I cupped you in my hand and then,<br />
I kept you for the night.<br />
Protected you from vicious cats.<br />
And hid you from plain sight.<br />
<br />
But morning had another plan.<br />
As nature worked its way.<br />
You died a peaceful death today.<br />
Instead of being prey.<br />
<br />
But still I cry a tear or two.<br />
For you were mine last night.<br />
I place a rock upon the ground.<br />
To mark your resting site.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span>Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-38593542504256777312013-01-06T14:02:00.000-08:002013-01-06T14:02:41.174-08:00Frozen Lake<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NdSjM0_ukmE/UOn0KaZKIxI/AAAAAAAAB-w/HFblqUUYf-M/s1600/IMG_0052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NdSjM0_ukmE/UOn0KaZKIxI/AAAAAAAAB-w/HFblqUUYf-M/s320/IMG_0052.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Awake, Old Man Winter, hear my song.<br />
Strong are your breaths that chill my bones.<br />
Stones in the brook are wrapped in clear ice.<br />
Twice they were thawed by a sun drenched day.<br />
Cafe poetry, coffee and sweet cream,<br />
Team up with thoughts of warm intimacy.<br />
Consistency of winter's chilling winds,<br />
Skins the sensitive heart yet one more time.<br />
Sublime are mountains with their snow caps.<br />
Perhaps now, we could dance on a frozen lake.</div>
Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-63818189125156779972013-01-05T19:13:00.002-08:002013-01-05T19:13:47.431-08:00A Dirty Little Limerick<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">There once was a gal, who wore only white.<br />
She gleamed in the day and shinned in the night.<br />
Then a guy tempted, come play;<br />
in brown gooey mud today.<br />
Now she's a horrible, dirty sight!<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span>Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-82718978092070685262013-01-02T20:48:00.002-08:002013-01-02T20:48:18.815-08:00Winter Soil<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
( Haiku )</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Blanket me with cold</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
sparkling crystal
falling flakes</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Prepare me for birth</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-20748719508850221842013-01-01T16:38:00.002-08:002013-01-01T16:38:38.065-08:00Of Peace and Joy<span class="userContent">I learned as a child, the horrors of war.<br /> I learned from books and pictures I saw.<br /> I learned of hate, violence and greed<br /> I learned of starving people, we couldn't feed.<br /> <br /> I thought back then, the world would change<br /> I thought other cultures, seemed really strange.<br /> Why would they live in a place with no food and water?<br /> Why would a parent pick a husband for their daughter?<br /> <br /><span class="text_exposed_show"> Why does man fight over land, when there is so much?<br /> Why can't we share the lands resources and such?<br /> I thought time would civilize everyone. <br /> But it's like waiting for the midnight sun.<br /> <br /> I wish for us all, that wars would cease.<br /> I pray everyday for world wide peace.<br /> I found here, a little haven of joy,<br /> of heart and soul...the real McCoy.<br /> <br /> In our own little corner of the world, we live<br /> with love, hope and understanding to give.<br /> We, poets of the world, stand tall, stand proud<br /> We speak in volumes without being loud.<br /> <br /> Yet our message is heard through many words.<br /> Rehearsed through scholars and even nerds.<br /> Long live the words through our verse<br /> as they enter the mind and then immerse. <br /> </span></span>Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-43727393404420515922012-12-26T19:47:00.000-08:002012-12-26T19:47:01.229-08:00Winter Icicles<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winter icicles smile smoothly<br />
and I shiver.<br />
Then I imagine your warmth-<br />
an amazing storm!<br />
Fondly you feed this fire<br />
madly inside.<br />
Blankets warm loosely-<br />
you snuggle up.<br />
An outrageous December!</div>
Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-1250423263843975852012-12-18T20:32:00.001-08:002012-12-18T20:33:04.117-08:00Christmas Light<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_hcaUX1yYU/UNFDJqZ6mbI/AAAAAAAAB5s/k71LNPrA54I/s1600/Bright+star.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_hcaUX1yYU/UNFDJqZ6mbI/AAAAAAAAB5s/k71LNPrA54I/s320/Bright+star.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">If ever I should lose my way<br />
on a snowy covered road.<br />
Never will I fear and tremble,<br />
knowing You carry the load.<br />
<br />
When winter's cold seeps into bones,<br />
and flesh calls me to sin--<br />
On bended knee to You I'll pray--<br />
with You I'll always win.<br />
<br />
O bright planet, shine down on me<br />
this cold December night.<br />
You're right on time, to show the way,<br />
and chase away my fright.<br />
<br />
You look just like a star, one night<br />
that guided years ago.<br />
To promise ever lasting life--<br />
and keep me from my woe!</span></div>
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</span>Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-26847558602159326082012-05-15T07:25:00.001-07:002012-05-15T07:25:22.343-07:00Morning Song<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S9P5NZ6LnVc/T7JmyXaetZI/AAAAAAAABh4/35QF4ZVtCnE/s1600/Summer+2008+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S9P5NZ6LnVc/T7JmyXaetZI/AAAAAAAABh4/35QF4ZVtCnE/s320/Summer+2008+005.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The birds in spring are up at the crack of dawn<br />
singing for all, their morning song.<br />
And the sweet fragrance of lilac<br />
fill the morning air.
</div>Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-35901444928656365272012-02-07T11:48:00.000-08:002012-02-07T11:48:07.565-08:00A Winter MorningSlowly leaving a peaceful state,<br />
awakening to a deafening silence,<br />
with an odd glow peering through blinds.<br />
Chilling air touches skin, <br />
as blankets get tossed aside.<br />
Stepping over to the window,<br />
sun-lover curiously opens the blinds.<br />
Gasp of surprise breaks the silence.<br />
Countless number of brilliant white flakes,<br />
all collected quietly during the night.<br />
Still floating down without a sound.<br />
No wind disturbs their travel.<br />
Each unique in its' own design.<br />
Stacks on the ground in massive quantity.<br />
With no urgency to this Saturday morning,<br />
immersed in deep thoughts of getting started,<br />
goes back to the warmth left under the covers.Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-81644820270918574762012-02-07T11:45:00.000-08:002012-02-07T11:45:18.499-08:00Windy February NightCold seeping inward<br />
Unwanted chilled caresses<br />
Gusty night prowlerVivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-71348812901798893362011-11-09T18:11:00.000-08:002012-02-07T11:47:08.235-08:00A November MondayIn the crisp air I step lively to my car,<br />
brushing my hair away from my eyes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mTswB1qR_B4/TrsyuJoCjTI/AAAAAAAABcI/3ge_X-Q7b78/s1600/IMG_2674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="234" width="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mTswB1qR_B4/TrsyuJoCjTI/AAAAAAAABcI/3ge_X-Q7b78/s320/IMG_2674.JPG" /></a></div><br />
.<br />
I marvel at how Long Island temperatures<br />
can go up and down so drastically in two days.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly my muscles aren't screaming at me<br />
after the workout I gave them on Saturday.<br />
According to my son, I was a psycho on Saturday,<br />
raking leaves in the relentless wind and rain.<br />
It was only drizzling and the wind was a help.<br />
<br />
I heard you Saturday, despite the wind, flying over head<br />
but could not see you through the thick, heavy rain clouds.<br />
Still, I knew you were up there, creating poetry in the air.<br />
I wanted to join you and I almost did as a gust of wind<br />
shook me from my foot hold on the muddy ground.<br />
<br />
I will take you and your poetry with me as I travel to work,<br />
as I breath in the fresh air from the slightly opened car window.<br />
It is a fine day and I have God to thank for that and I have you<br />
to thank, for sharing your good poetry with me....<br />
your poetry with the double O!Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-25370922166612214482011-10-04T22:04:00.000-07:002018-04-21T18:31:17.070-07:00As Coffee BrewsYour feathery quill struck my eye<br />
as I butter my toast of rye.<br />
I hunger for your poetic words<br />
that fly off like a flock of birds.<br />
Into the night they disappear <br />
behind a cloud that's very sheer.<br />
Then in dawn's light as coffee brews<br />
poetic words and honey fuse.Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-48898559087180324902011-07-30T11:03:00.001-07:002011-07-30T11:03:36.922-07:00Poetry WineWho has cometh to wine and dine<br />
upon thy simple words?<br />
And would you care to cometh back<br />
for seconds, even thirds?<br />
<br />
Luscious grapes, fruit of thy vine,<br />
perfecting on thy twine.<br />
Stay and linger on thy lips,<br />
sweet poetry and wine.<br />
<br />
I knew thee well once long ago,<br />
our words danced 'neath the moon.<br />
I gave to thee, thy dewy heart,<br />
that bloomed in early June.<br />
<br />
Luscious grapes, fruit of thy vine,<br />
perfecting on thy twine.<br />
Stay and linger in thy mind,<br />
sweet poetry and wine.Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-7970227302361475542011-04-22T21:37:00.000-07:002011-04-22T21:38:40.598-07:00CelerityWhy is the pen always out of ink?<br />Is it really a wonder;<br />Have you not read all that he writes,<br />in the shadows of the wee hours<br />whilst I sleep?<br /><br />The moon is on the rise<br />and the mood is warming<br />the breath of the night.<br /><br />The cravings for sweet metaphors<br />come alive in his poetic mind<br />as he calls for me to come<br />and play once again;<br />to be his angel.<br /><br />"Come to mind" he says to me.<br />"Come, my muse of the night".<br /><br />I am but an innocent reader of his poems,<br />a captive audience of one, by day<br />and an unknowing seductive muse by night.<br /><br />How is it unknowingly that I invade his mind<br />and become the muse of his desires?<br />Like the depths of a dark ocean, have my<br />eyes revealed my most womanly secrets?<br /><br />I am but the grass that only looks greener<br />on the other side of the metaphor.<br />I am but the rhyme that fanned out her<br />tail feathers only to fall flat on the floor.<br /><br />Still, he calls me to mind in the cool dusk.<br />And once again I am his muse of the night.<br /><br />The lines on the paper heat up with each<br />stroke of the pen as ink flows with celerity.<br />He can't help but express his male excitement<br />and in his nervous state...forgets my name!Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-63396483960748651122011-03-06T09:17:00.000-08:002011-03-06T09:18:10.539-08:00Poem in D minorI've seen, I've heard this play before,<br />two restless souls a fire.<br />Invite, excite, to come explore<br />to see what will transpire.<br /><br />But star-dust soon will leave the eye<br />I'm sure you will agree.<br />Another beauty passes by<br />and then I'm history.<br /><br />Recite to me a ballad free<br />of broken hearts galore.<br />Don't lust for me on bended knee<br />for I will cry no more.Vivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-41838813943292092302011-02-09T22:18:00.001-08:002011-02-09T22:21:17.350-08:00un-red valentine<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cTl-7iawSi0/TVOD1k8PujI/AAAAAAAABPg/P1sGOMw1-zY/s1600/BLUE.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 151px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cTl-7iawSi0/TVOD1k8PujI/AAAAAAAABPg/P1sGOMw1-zY/s200/BLUE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571942120460106290" /></a><br /><br />your love is like<br />wild winds whipping my heart<br />staining me blueVivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39710729630611842.post-27395269059302656392011-01-18T16:49:00.000-08:002011-01-18T16:53:30.961-08:00January<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bnjkEUX05qo/TTY1_spk6fI/AAAAAAAABOE/1scPx9SmXLM/s1600/feet%2Bunder%2Bblankets.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 115px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bnjkEUX05qo/TTY1_spk6fI/AAAAAAAABOE/1scPx9SmXLM/s320/feet%2Bunder%2Bblankets.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563693758096402930" /></a><br />Whistling wind weasels<br />beneath lose fitting covers<br />Winter is not shyVivian aka Deborahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18438493107661646979noreply@blogger.com2