Main Page Sitemap

Femme mature cherche homme à morelia


femme mature cherche homme à morelia

tale of the murder.
Sea of stretch'd ground-swells, Sea breathing broad and convulsive breaths, Sea of the brine of life and of unshovell'd yet always-ready graves, Howler and scooper of storms, capricious and dainty sea, I am integral with you, I too am of one phase and of all.
In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well as forward sluing, To niches aside and junior bending, not a person or object missing, Absorbing all to myself and for this song.Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on, To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes.Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders, I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.Now I see it is true, what I guess'd at, What I guess'd when I loaf'd on the grass, What I guess'd while I lay alone in my bed, And again as I walk'd the beach under the paling stars of the morning.Have you reckon'd the earth much?
I believe in the flesh and the appetites, Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.
There is no stoppage and never can be stoppage, If I, you, and the worlds, and all beneath or upon their surfaces, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail the long run, We should surely bring up again where.
I find one side a balance and the antipedal side a balance, Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine, Thoughts and deeds marié à la recherche pour les mariés à concepcion of the present our rouse and early start.
Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy shade, what is that you express in your eyes?
9 The big doors of the country barn stand open and ready, The dried grass of the harvest-time loads the slow-drawn wagon, The clear light plays on the brown gray and green intertinged, The armfuls are pack'd to the sagging mow.
Which of the young men does she like the best?This is the press of a bashful hand, this the float and odor of hair, This the touch of my lips to yours, this the murmur of yearning, This the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face, This the thoughtful merge of myself, and.And to all generals that lost engagements, and all overcome heroes!Won't you help support DayPoems?Press close bare-bosom'd night-press close magnetic nourishing night!Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!


[L_RANDNUM-10-999]
Sitemap