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James McLain
1958 -
Poems (6710)
through The Old Oak Tree
day By Day
She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..
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Comments (10)
Carol Carter
04 Feb 2015 12:12
Agree with your thoughts.
Mary Angela Douglas
10 Oct 2014 01:05
This poem is astonishingly beautiful conveying unseen worlds and with utmost delicacy. Forgive the intrusion but I have changed (not the words) but a few very minor spelling or typos type of mistakes. This poem is incredible and flows in and out of dreams so that you even forget the language, arcing beyond life to afterlife. It is remarkable. To The Blind Their Dreaming Before I was blind there were dreams. But seeing my dreams before I could see, depended on how much you could really see. Blind before birth, and what you have asked of me. Having my, our, hearing dreams- your perception is sound, sound that is seen; left more unsaid about me. I still see to see in my dreams as one where I'm still alive. What they must contain, the colors within. and sound, I can feel: taste and touch. To remember one dream that one special dream, I still dream when awake I can see, when my wife I first met and how she will look forever.
Amir Mohammad Islami Chalandar
06 Jun 2014 07:18
excellent poems. you are great in explaining your feels. i invite you to read my poem
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