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Loving You / Rochelle
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Will Dockery
2017-02-21 18:06:54 UTC
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A poem from one of the local poetry groups of Columbus Georgia, in the year
2000 in message news:2476395a-26b0-4ccc-af92-***@googlegroups.com... I haven't seen
Rochelle in at least 15 years, hope she is doing okay...

Loving You / Rochelle

http://web.archive.org/web/20020627134804/http://www.playgroundsmag.com/poetry/rochelle.htm

Loving You
Loving you is more than
infatuation and butterflies,
more than longing looks
into deep brown eyes.

Loving you is for me
truth of being;
it is the depth
of surrender
into which I
submerge willingly.

Loving you is serenity of thought
conquering chaos from
without;
it is the essence of inspiration
lubricating the flow of
ideas from spirit to mind.

Loving you is the knowledge
in my fingertips- capable of
electrifying your every nerve;
it is orgasmic with clothes on,
before we even touch.

Loving you is the
meditation of my heart
with my dreams;
it is the illumination
of self previously darkened
by doubt.

Loving you is hypnotic
in its power over me;
it is a fevered mass
of emotion creating
both chaos and calm.

Loving you is joy in
collapsing weak in your arms;
it is gratitude for moments
of quiet revelation spent
in your thoughts.

Loving you is perpetual
pleasure embedded in
every sunrise echoing
the dawning of my hopes
in your eyes;
it is reverence for
the simple delight of sunset,
twilight reflecting my desire
to accept all your facets-
for stars find beauty
in even the darkest sky.

Loving you is more than
infatuation and butterflies
more than longing looks
into deep brown eyes.

Tragic

Her love- young, innocent, perhaps naive.
His love- obsessive, tragic, fatal ultimately.
Sixteen years of a father's only daughter
ended in an endless echo gunshots
ricocheting in a childless
mother's nightmares.

Enraged by an imaginary sin
he saw in her young life.
For this she was hunted,
abducted, mutilated and gunned down.
All seemed so justified to him-
if she didn't want him then
she couldn't stay around.
Red was all he saw as his quest was pursued
her mom was in the way, so he shot her too.

She was his life
his obsession his victim.
He left her no choice
but to give her life for him.
A husband's only choice was to say
to his wife just out off her coma
"our precious joy has been taken away."
Hundreds showed to pay solemn respect.
Casualty of love- demented and tragic.
Will Dockery
2017-02-21 18:10:28 UTC
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Post by Will Dockery
Loving You / Rochelle
http://web.archive.org/web/20020627134804/http://www.playgroundsmag.com/poetry/rochelle.htm
Loving You
Loving you is more than
infatuation and butterflies,
more than longing looks
into deep brown eyes.
Loving you is for me
truth of being;
it is the depth
of surrender
into which I
submerge willingly.
Loving you is serenity of thought
conquering chaos from
without;
it is the essence of inspiration
lubricating the flow of
ideas from spirit to mind.
Loving you is the knowledge
in my fingertips- capable of
electrifying your every nerve;
it is orgasmic with clothes on,
before we even touch.
Loving you is the
meditation of my heart
with my dreams;
it is the illumination
of self previously darkened
by doubt.
Loving you is hypnotic
in its power over me;
it is a fevered mass
of emotion creating
both chaos and calm.
Loving you is joy in
collapsing weak in your arms;
it is gratitude for moments
of quiet revelation spent
in your thoughts.
Loving you is perpetual
pleasure embedded in
every sunrise echoing
the dawning of my hopes
in your eyes;
it is reverence for
the simple delight of sunset,
twilight reflecting my desire
to accept all your facets-
for stars find beauty
in even the darkest sky.
Loving you is more than
infatuation and butterflies
more than longing looks
into deep brown eyes.
Tragic
Her love- young, innocent, perhaps naive.
His love- obsessive, tragic, fatal ultimately.
Sixteen years of a father's only daughter
ended in an endless echo gunshots
ricocheting in a childless
mother's nightmares.
Enraged by an imaginary sin
he saw in her young life.
For this she was hunted,
abducted, mutilated and gunned down.
All seemed so justified to him-
if she didn't want him then
she couldn't stay around.
Red was all he saw as his quest was pursued
her mom was in the way, so he shot her too.
She was his life
his obsession his victim.
He left her no choice
but to give her life for him.
A husband's only choice was to say
to his wife just out off her coma
"our precious joy has been taken away."
Hundreds showed to pay solemn respect.
Casualty of love- demented and tragic.
Brilliant work Will. Thank you for it.

---------------------------------------------------------

Thank you, Ilya... I haven't seen Rochelle in over 15 years, hope perhaps
she will come back soon,can be located.

:)
&
2017-02-21 18:30:16 UTC
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Raw Message
Post by Will Dockery
A poem from one of the local poetry groups of Columbus Georgia, in
haven't seen Rochelle in at least 15 years, hope she is doing
okay...
Loving You / Rochelle
http://web.archive.org/web/20020627134804/http://www.playgroundsmag.com/poetry/rochelle.htm
Loving You Loving you is more than infatuation and butterflies, more
than longing looks into deep brown eyes.
Loving you is for me truth of being; it is the depth of surrender
into which I submerge willingly.
Loving you is serenity of thought conquering chaos from without; it
is the essence of inspiration lubricating the flow of ideas from
spirit to mind.
Loving you is the knowledge in my fingertips- capable of electrifying
your every nerve; it is orgasmic with clothes on, before we even
touch.
Loving you is the meditation of my heart with my dreams; it is the
illumination of self previously darkened by doubt.
Loving you is hypnotic in its power over me; it is a fevered mass of
emotion creating both chaos and calm.
Loving you is joy in collapsing weak in your arms; it is gratitude
for moments of quiet revelation spent in your thoughts.
Loving you is perpetual pleasure embedded in every sunrise echoing
the dawning of my hopes in your eyes; it is reverence for the simple
delight of sunset, twilight reflecting my desire to accept all your
facets- for stars find beauty in even the darkest sky.
Loving you is more than infatuation and butterflies more than longing
looks into deep brown eyes.
Tragic
Her love- young, innocent, perhaps naive. His love- obsessive,
tragic, fatal ultimately. Sixteen years of a father's only daughter
ended in an endless echo gunshots ricocheting in a childless
mother's nightmares.
Enraged by an imaginary sin he saw in her young life. For this she
was hunted, abducted, mutilated and gunned down. All seemed so
justified to him- if she didn't want him then she couldn't stay
around. Red was all he saw as his quest was pursued her mom was in
the way, so he shot her too.
She was his life his obsession his victim. He left her no choice but
to give her life for him. A husband's only choice was to say to his
wife just out off her coma "our precious joy has been taken away."
Hundreds showed to pay solemn respect. Casualty of love- demented
and tragic.
this is terrible its just political propaganda set to poorest quality
format its no more poetry than tissue square of toilet paper

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