dVerse
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It’s open link night over at the dVerse Poets’ Pub! I’ve not seen it, but the damp-dirt fragrance of petrichor (that musky mystique!) dazzles my blind mind’s eye. Rain’s shimmer—an almost-sound— splash-dancing thirsty lawns, razored lightening slicing; silencing Thunder’s echoed moans then, Sunshine sings a bow of rain in colors I can hear.
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It’s Quadrille Monday over at the dVerse Poet’s Pub and the writing prompt is the word harbor. Harbor lights in the moonlight, walking the shore with a rainbow just out of reach, Champagne for no other reason than celebrating each other, the way your blue-velvet eyes seemed to glitter when you smiled— these are the


