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Idle Moments

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Blast the grey, depressed clouds asunder 
into time best always forgotten. 
The memories aren’t meant for plunder 
while alive we save the downtrodden. 
 
Would you give your power unwanted 
to Big money that dwells undaunted? 
 
She’s asking for my return to Her; 
amidst the idle moments crawling, 
my minutes as poet and writer, 
I feel her kneeling down and calling. 
 
Could you rally to Her cause, falling 
for the love of Mother, and stalling?
 
“Plant your seeds in my earth,” she beckons 
Her children to return and charges 
to become of the Earth’s own legion. 
“Reaping is your gift, as they are wages.” 
 
Will you receive this relationship 
as a means for unchallenged kinship? 
 
She’s begging for our return to Her; 
shape idle moments endearingly 
while considering your common terms. 
I feel pulling towards Her, clearly. 
 
Do you think past selfishness clauses 
in your deference and time pauses? 
 
Bring up argument as terms draw near; 
the banner unfurled for battle at dawn, 
She whispers names of the chosen dear -
ones that will represent Her as fawns. 
 
Did you answer Her or sadly fail 
to feel the connection to the grail? 
 
T.M. Prada
Copyright  2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/idle-moments/713226118727301

 

Build Me

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Beautiful enchanted dreamland 
where time ceases to exist, true. 
You show pictures and lies like sand 
sifting in riverbeds on through. 
 
Build me the castle from times gone, 
that imprisons the faithless cruel.
With towers of emerald stones 
build me a fortress on rescue. 
 
Misty mountains’ boggy inlets 
whisper to me of long ago. 
Mystical places shown hamlets 
that vibrate sound like sad echoes. 
 
Build me a past where lifetimes bounce 
through passages of cool marble. 
Connect resolute pour through clouds 
building a history table. 
 
Twilight forest glen constructed 
of minute traces of magic, 
resonate in me contracted, 
and resides Nature’s calm logic. 
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/build-me/712210695495510

Rips And Tears

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Whispering softly gentle zephyrs 
and speaking my name again through tears, 
Mother beckoned me in dreams, like spurs, 
“Why have you forsaken me these years?” 
 
I cried aloud without any sound,  
the pain growing into rips and tears. 
My mind screaming, verbally aloud, 
and collapsing into rips and tears. 
 
Hair standing fully at attention 
and heart breaking from saddened weeping, 
my mind felt loving consolation, 
she said, “I forbid any reaping.” 
 
Salty water streamed my distraught face 
while breaths exhaled into rips and tears. 
Heart breaking although rushing a race, 
life coalesced into rips and tears. 
 
Standing solidly, weak all at once; 
her love in creation now required 
to build relationships in ounces, 
for she is all happiness desired. 
 
Opening arms and heart, now embraced 
reception beckons from rips and tears. 
Give all and receive, all will erased, 
in emotions of love’s rips and tears. 
 
Deceive not yourself of conception 
of bonding with “The Whole” of Nature. 
For your role on this Earth’s deception 
multiplies with denial tinctures.
 
T.M. Prada
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/rips-and-tears/711012802281966

 

Cloud Dancer

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Noticing breath in morning chill 
the dream master orders at will. 
See the mother beckon you home 
honoring your birthright, condoned. 
 
Shamans beat rhythm onto drums, 
setting with another day’s sun. 
Soon times grow brisk, and the air cold, 
harvesting people before old. 
 
Gather now, joining in soul’s dance. 
You may not get another chance. 
Gather the storm clouds for thunder; 
you won’t fly out, blown asunder.
 
Awaken from the dreamer’s mind 
renewing life, they won’t remind. 
Child, see the vision; plant the seed. 
I bring to you your urgent need. 
 
Minstrels and poets sing the keys 
the notes touch spirits as it pleads. 
Get up now, humming olden tunes, 
metamorphosis continues. 
 
Float above the mêlée and dance, 
growing eagle’s wings is your chance. 
Listen to my voice, Cloud Dancer. 
Knowing nature, is the answer.
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/cloud-dancer/710270569022856

Charming

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Lavender and lilac painted finger tips 
designer mistakes, like I’d give a rip. 
Freckles spot my skin in repetition 
love my rendition of imperfection. 
 
Would you love without your social beauty 
that sparkles almost shortly, or briefly? 
Will you love beyond the observable 
showing charm that’s required desirable? 
 
Starvation molds the catwalks and stages 
simple models groped in fashion rages. 
Muses in ruses pose for page covers 
as if they vogue for another lover. 
 
Could you admire the honest love-lorn smile 
with twinkling eyes that carries for miles? 
Can you see me throughout painful disdain 
charming your way in someone else’s day? 
 
Black and purple speckles my bruised up soul 
while you ask me with charm, “What do you know?” 
Silver and red cloud my enraged vision, 
moving away with great apprehension. 
 
Should weeping engulf relationships lost, 
which I abate as a tiny ship tossed? 
Shall I advise myself of depthlessness 
in unavoidable charming dullness? 
 
Lilac fills somber imaginations
strumming guitars sound the situation. 
Lavender scents exude beyond stations, 
thinking without any limitations! 
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/charming/709303275786252

Windswept

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Take me to undiscovered places
in between some uncharted courses.
The adventure of lifetime races
plunges through this avid explorer’s 
veins… 
 
Windswept plains, often the soul reminds
sensitive souls, cool the racing pulse.
Windswept valleys, the pollen reminds
nature’s rebirth, show flowers bloom pearls. 
 
Invite me into castles’ gleaming
hopes to capture imaginations.
Come with intent to reigniting
awe within the heart’s integration
chains… 
 
Windswept coasts, balms of summer reminds
beachgoers, chill fevers of love starved.
Windswept mesas, psalm to treks remind
adventurers, vantage points observed. 
 
Vacation with me in your mind’s eye;
the victim of time unmonitored.
Travel creation’s, a passerby,
throughout landscape lanes unregistered
pain… 
 
T.M. Prada
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/windswept/707211369328776
 

Dreamer’s Mind

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Minds travel when entering sleep 
throughout corridors dark and deep. 
Probable realities live 
within the psyche’s creative. 
Blast the obstruction that competes 
with unconscious intellect’s keep. 
 
Snapshots within the dreamer’s mind 
form circuits, electrical binds. 
Videos build interactions 
as movies’ coming attractions. 
Impulses feed the dreamer’s mind, 
communication on rewind. 
 
Changelings thrive of every hue 
finding meals while I continue, 
and moving toward a bleak shore 
I wonder what resides in store. 
Penetrate folds in space and time 
revealing infinite design. 
 
Words spoken by the dreamer’s mind 
float in musical thought and rhyme. 
Phrases sung with satisfaction 
slide through throngs loving reactions. 
Poems created from dreamer’s mind 
live beyond, before, and resigned. 
 
Buildings bow before me somehow
while existing inside wayward clouds.
Creatures speak complete in stature
while interact, thinking captured.
Touching now within that moment,
I wake with memories golden. 
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/dreamers-mind/706029369446976 
 

 

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