20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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Right Here Waiting For You

 

Honey I understand the things you say,

Even though it makes me sad.

We sat and had a talk that day,

I gave you everything I had,

 Just to prove my love to you.

Even if you’re so far away,

Will wait you till eternity.

Can’t wait to build my dreams around you,

right here waiting for you…

Being with you for a while,

 gives happiness inside ,

Know that I am glad,

that our paths collide.

Taste of your kiss , touch of your skin,

It makes my life so gleam.

I will continue to love you

 and keep our memories within.

Can’t wait to build my dreams around you,

 right here waiting for you…


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Rain

Green gray

this day

warm icy wind

tickles my skin

goose bumps live

under the rain drops

solemn moods

and soaking cries

illicit friends

burning sky

birds no more

intrude

the sun snoozes

behind gray clouds

as if to never speak aloud

again to light

rejoice

rebound

night-time moon

crescent crown.

© [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com], [2012]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, artwork, or photo’s without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


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The Backs of My Hands

Her little cherub hands picked up my own.
Between her thumb and forefinger she pinched
the paper thinness of the skin and cinched
it. “Grandma, why does it do that?” “When grown,

you’ll get to have some skin like this, my dear.”
Her doubtful eyes cast shadows on my age.
Instead of “older,” I prefer that “sage”
define me. No convincing would she hear.

I’ve always thought that farmers’ rugged hands
are gloved in beauty of a certain kind.
Deep wrinkles give them character, are lined
with fresh reminders of the soil and lands.

My granddaughter sees baby pink on hers,
cannot imagine they will ever look
experienced. To garden and to cook
leaves corrugations when she hoes and stirs.

                              



Hours In The Skin

Other Side of Distance 16

There are hours in the skin

minutes and seconds

too

building to years

And as foreign hands

cross the surface

hoping to soften

and comfort

then undo

time

The reaction

comes as mountains

rising

topped by fine hairs

shooting

through wormholes

further confusing

the understanding once understood

about quantum

physics.

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