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Writing

Morning at the Campsite

The sun rising like a ball of yellow fire,
Over mountains of green and black.
To bring life to a blue sky,
With puffs of white clouds floating.
Leaves of green and yellow gently blowing,
Like a painter's brush on a blue canvas.
Water gently trickling over rocks,
Rocks smooth and rocks sharp.
Air warming slightly from its…

Writing

Love is Just a Sonnet

So true is love when it is from the heart,
Yet how can we be sure when love is true?
For love can't be for looks it is for you.
Our brains are so complex we think we're smart,
But love can make intelligence depart.
If brain and heart conflict what do you do?
Do you…

Writing

Freedom

Freedom in the cold cell was built,
For him who controlled himself,
And the cold walls of self pity,
Did not close in,
But grew until there was freedom,
Freedom in a small place.

The feeling of love within,
Wiped out all feeling of anger,
And sadness was gone
Yet sadness was all around,
The love was strong but one…