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To: SevenofNine

We ought to start charging them for blame, we always get it! LOL


1,274 posted on 06/21/2008 8:58:48 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (I soar- 'cause I can...)
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To: Soaring Feather; tomkow6; All

They blame it on Bush

Going back to that who they going blame after President Bush get out of office

That what my mom is asking me NOW who they going blame Barek or McCain if we elect John McCain if elect him

Guess this according to Kydto news wire in overnight cycles North Korea want charge US media money allow them show them that they are disarm that cooling nuke plant that cool of nuke tech reactors

OMG LOL!

What next Chia pet going charge us everytime we uploaded I am so roaney


1,275 posted on 06/21/2008 9:05:24 AM PDT by SevenofNine ("We are Freepers, all your media belong to us, resistence is futile")
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To: Soaring Feather

To the Ladies!

Devotions on a Silken Plain

She moves, limed in sweat shine under the silver light of the moon,
in her rhythmic devotions to the ever eternal Goddess of Love.
Fierce as a leopard, yet delicate as the smallest dove,
she encompasses the span of human need, burning again, all too soon.

Soul fire dances along the edges of oh so sensitive nerves,
and she shivers at the return touch of another’s need.
Demanding her moment, writhing like a storm tossed reed,
until she tumbles over the edge of the inner abyss in sudden curves.

Her cry is so like the cry of a lost soul, yet too, it holds joy she’ll keep,
as she harvests the moments like golden treasures to lay away.
Her devotions over, she falls back to another reality, mortal clay,
and holding onto the wonders she has collected, she fades into sleep.

I hold her close, and let the moments passed, wring her empty of stress,
watching her slip into sleep, that gentle smile on her lovely face.
I smile too, for I love the way she looks in such delicate wisps of lace,
at peace, at rest, at least until we must rise and finally have to dress.


1,277 posted on 06/21/2008 2:22:00 PM PDT by WayzataJOHNN ( Poetry is the jazz of words, laid down by a feeling soul.)
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