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Morel Telos

Hidden, perched on high, The Peregrine Falcon echolocates the bird-in-flight warning song. Only when intercept is optimal, takes flight. Soaring over 100mph, wings and claws cantilever for precise capture. There is no app I follow, only the rhythms of nature my Father passed down to me- "listen to the wind" "harvest the gifts of the seasons" Wild Tansyleaf Aster carpets this river bottom forest. Stepping around deep imprints left by a heavy Buck, the symphony of migrating Warblers sweeps through my wooded wind. Brambles I avoid, Deer Ticks I hope to discover! and mud sink-holes I traverse; as I approach the unmistakeable glint of the Giant Golden Morel! 04/18/15 © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 5/20/2015 7:27:00 AM
wow! your poem is more descriptive than any app. It acts as a camera to the eye, but your gift creates a much more intricate film. Thank you, Jill
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Date: 4/21/2015 1:59:00 PM
wonderful poetry...
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Date: 4/21/2015 12:25:00 AM
wow lovely poem and i could see every word i loved the words listen to the wind harvest the gift of the season well done i will read you more
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Date: 4/20/2015 1:58:00 PM
Dear poet, I love to read your best poem like Silent hearts, Snow Angel, Labyrinth and the Lost in the Autumn Air. I like the wording to it and the rhythm to it too. Best works.
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Date: 4/20/2015 12:35:00 PM
Hey Marshall your poem reminds me of being in the woods. Fishing hunting or just admiring Gods work. Very Nice.
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Date: 4/18/2015 8:56:00 AM
Wow dear poet ! Yet another meat eater I've learned of here on the Soup ! TY Mr. Goff ! Have a wonderful weekend sir.....much love, james
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