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Gasps and Grimgrins Posts

Constants – 16

My pal's gold color'd locks and gold stash,
    My pal's droll grand chops and fab snoot,
My pal's  "don't draw a blank"-look and bass-alto call
    And dog who has gnaw'd on my boot.

All oft call to my mood;
    My gasps almost constantly show
Scraps of my pal's tobacco's odor.
    Commonly from Tallow Stall Row.

At days that my gasps grasp tobacco,
    Pathos knocks my awkward gong.
Mayhaps my mood looks at my past pal,
    Or mayhaps my gasp was too strong?
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Neverendings – IX

Right there where the Feed Dyke
    Meets Leiden's fine New Rhine,
My friend expressed he'd spend
    His resting life with mine.

Divide the Rhine Dyke midst De Vink,
     With ferry in the Rhine,
There, well-nigh six weeks in,
    He bridged the friendship's line
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Alivings – XXV

If I hark at Always a blaring,
Mayhaps it's a tympan's bass,
My wailing starts right away;
And - I ain't familiar with why.

If a playing artist asks: 'In which way,
Sir, is this tympan's bass - mayhaps
this blaring - this stirring?' -
I still ain't familiar with why.

Was it as in days far by
A pal did play a tympan's bass
With lavishly fab skills?
Alas, I still didn't grasp why
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Tiger lilies – My Rikki

Merely this single time we've met. She were
Settled in this vehicle, riding by mine
Seen whence I remember being
My 'n her eyes met sheer jiffies.

Despite this, it lingered in my mind
I see life's endless streets & persevere
Yet this here smile she dimmed, yes, ne'er it
Hence bedecked this phiz since we then met.

Why is it Deities embellished her with frizzes bright,
Which typify blessed sprites? Besides,
Why beryl eyes, like light yet metres deep?
She knew I ne'er defied this, right?

Yes, why did she speed by me?
Didn't, like lightning, free her vehicle.
& pinced my neck between her higher limbs,
& stretched my thirsty skin with pressing lips?

She trembled with emergencies in mind?
Rikki! Zilch excites me like thee 'n I
With hellish  pressings in the mind,
Were leveled by this engine's wreck...
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Alivings – XLIX

Many a day did my milkman
    At dawn fill in his maid:
'Again a damp sill.' My man didn't grasp
    That nightly crying spark'd his plight.

I think his maid and him lacking this insight,
    Was a bit awkward, - still in which way this girl
Practically didn't catch anything,
    That was in fact a hard pill.

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Infinitons – III

Why I moist my torpid nights
    With poison'd drops of crying? -
I know nothing I'd opt for first,
    Which isn't disclosing it.

So if this is which I wish
    Do I know if I might?
Nothing is with no origin, -
    Still, don't my drops know no font?
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Alivings – I

A skydisk casts back starlight
    And past my fanlight asks:
"Alas, my pallid lyrist, -
    Is that a cry I spy?"

Wasn't it this skydisk asking
    I'd bid it: find a star. -
As what spark'd my glist'ning iris,
    Is singly my affair.

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