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Saturday, November 29, 2025

Pennies Of Cloned Hearts

Pennies Of Cloned Hearts
© Surazeus
2025 11 29

Though she sleeps now in shadows of my heart 
the brilliant light of her eyes luminates 
silent emptiness of our secret home 
with complex beauty of shared memories 
framed by our love as portraits on vast walls 
that animate events of our romance. 

While reading novel in soft-cushioned chair, 
she chews sweet white raisins with slender fingers 
in slow contemplation of eager hope 
which motivates the heart of every human 
to trust the stranger with attractive smile 
for secret treasure of their trusting heart. 

When she finds the last penny in the world 
gleaming brightly on the cement sidewalk, 
she pinches purity of its stored worth 
with practical respect for usefulness 
based on assurance of prized benefits 
we gain by saving profit through esteem. 

When she assesses estimated cost 
of vain deficiency appraised as fake, 
opposed to strict advantage by exchange 
from standard principles for purchasers, 
she treasures merit earned by crafting hands 
that found grand empires on capital gains. 

Emergent artists trapped in maze of wealth 
decry obsessive passion to create 
excessive beauty from randomized objects 
collected from heaps of discarded hopes 
that old men sell for pennies of cloned hearts 
to wives of farmers who befriend pond toads. 

At eerie howl of monsters in dark woods 
she feeds ripe apple to the wingless horse 
whose milk funds castle project to design 
ascendant phase of educating growth 
for children to learn mysteries of the Earth 
when they inherit globe of pulsing ghosts. 

Connected through throbbing node of prime words, 
our radiant brains adapt new global themes 
to maintain noble purpose broadcast well 
when we accommodate pure friends we love 
through quick adjustment our typewriters reel 
if we would comprehend how souls are born. 

When she wakes from bright shadows of my heart 
on opposite side of our spinning globe, 
she guides hawk of my soul with gentle grace 
to visit tomb of her mother at dawn, 
and weeps at loss of treasured revenant 
whose absence gleams as ghost of sacred love. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus hugs Ophelia as she weeps at tomb of her mother Eurydice in Elysian Fields by the River Styx.

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