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A curious thing this writing: Two years of words, all penned out, Four Hundred posts, shared online.   © Tom Tide 2017  

Enrobed

Wound tight around my pulse: Feeling my heart quicken with desire sparked- Woven with memories, dyed indelibly.   © Tom Tide 2017    

Fall

The last apple falls anon: Does it sense its brief, swift demise? Or feel naught but gravity?   © Tom Tide 2017  

Tender

Autumn tide is swept away. Dormant curves yearn for the ocean- Drenched in their fierce desire.   Copyright Tom Tide 2017  

Sunday

Mug still warm between hands, Painting with dregs, still lost in dreams. Caffeine courses through my veins.   © Tom Tide 2017

Cast

Lifeless wings pinned tight Shadow glides as if  in flight; Just a trick of light.   Copyright Tom Tide 2017