Butterflies float
With petals and feathers
In every note
Of your voice. In its tenor -
Nectarine, white,
Full of light, full of sky -
There is delight -
And I will not ask why
Sometimes your voice
Shimmers like a bright star -
Sometimes it's close
Sometimes it's far
Sometimes I hear in it
Rivers and streams
Sometimes I see in it
Passions and dreams
Sometimes it crests
Like a wave in a sea
Sometimes it nests
Like a bird in a tree
Sometimes it rings
Like a vanishing bell
Sometimes it sings
As if casting a spell -
Sometimes it flings
Like a lasso, ensnares
Prey. Or grows wings
And then flies everywhere -
Sometimes it drops
Like a leaf from an oak
Sometimes it stops
Like a belltower clock
Sometimes it wafts
Like a sweet summer breeze
Or like a raft
It floats over the seas -
Sometimes I feel it
Caressing my ear
Holding me in it
Drawing me near.
Sometimes I glimpse
What your voice holds within
When it so seems,
I can fully glean
Its warmth and softness
Its passion and peace
Then I am lost in
The most perfect bliss.

Ilya Shambat
https://sites.google.com/view/ilyashambatpoetry

Ilya Shambat wrote:
> Butterflies float
> With petals and feathers
> In every note
> Of your voice. In its tenor -
> Nectarine, white,
> Full of light, full of sky -
> There is delight -
> And I will not ask why
> Sometimes your voice
> Shimmers like a bright star -
> Sometimes it's close
> Sometimes it's far
> Sometimes I hear in it
> Rivers and streams
> Sometimes I see in it
> Passions and dreams
> Sometimes it crests
> Like a wave in a sea
> Sometimes it nests
> Like a bird in a tree
> Sometimes it rings
> Like a vanishing bell
> Sometimes it sings
> As if casting a spell -
> Sometimes it flings
> Like a lasso, ensnares
> Prey. Or grows wings
> And then flies everywhere -
> Sometimes it drops
> Like a leaf from an oak
> Sometimes it stops
> Like a belltower clock
> Sometimes it wafts
> Like a sweet summer breeze
> Or like a raft
> It floats over the seas -
> Sometimes I feel it
> Caressing my ear
> Holding me in it
> Drawing me near.
> Sometimes I glimpse
> What your voice holds within
> When it so seems,
> I can fully glean
> Its warmth and softness
> Its passion and peace
> Then I am lost in
> The most perfect bliss.
>
> Ilya Shambat
> https://sites.google.com/view/ilyashambatpoetry
>
>
My dad was a man of poetry and would always speak to me in metaphors.
He'd always say stuff like, "You're a fucking idiot".

On Monday, February 19, 2024 at 1:42:53 PM UTC-5, fake George Sulzbach forged:
> Ilya Shambat wrote:
>
> > Butterflies float
> > With petals and feathers
> > In every note
> > Of your voice. In its tenor -
> > Nectarine, white,
> > Full of light, full of sky -
> > There is delight -
> > And I will not ask why
> > Sometimes your voice
> > Shimmers like a bright star -
> > Sometimes it's close
> > Sometimes it's far
> > Sometimes I hear in it
> > Rivers and streams
> > Sometimes I see in it
> > Passions and dreams
> > Sometimes it crests
> > Like a wave in a sea
> > Sometimes it nests
> > Like a bird in a tree
> > Sometimes it rings
> > Like a vanishing bell
> > Sometimes it sings
> > As if casting a spell -
> > Sometimes it flings
> > Like a lasso, ensnares
> > Prey. Or grows wings
> > And then flies everywhere -
> > Sometimes it drops
> > Like a leaf from an oak
> > Sometimes it stops
> > Like a belltower clock
> > Sometimes it wafts
> > Like a sweet summer breeze
> > Or like a raft
> > It floats over the seas -
> > Sometimes I feel it
> > Caressing my ear
> > Holding me in it
> > Drawing me near.
> > Sometimes I glimpse
> > What your voice holds within
> > When it so seems,
> > I can fully glean
> > Its warmth and softness
> > Its passion and peace
> > Then I am lost in
> > The most perfect bliss.
> >
> > Ilya Shambat
> > https://sites.google.com/view/ilyashambatpoetry
> >
> >
> My dad was a man of poetry and would always speak to me in metaphors.
> He'd always say stuff like, "You're a fucking idiot".

Forgery ^^^^^^^^^^^^

On Monday, February 19, 2024 at 7:28:01 AM UTC-5, Ilya Shambat wrote:
>
> Butterflies float
> With petals and feathers
> In every note
> Of your voice. In its tenor -
> Nectarine, white,
> Full of light, full of sky -
> There is delight -
> And I will not ask why
> Sometimes your voice
> Shimmers like a bright star -
> Sometimes it's close
> Sometimes it's far
> Sometimes I hear in it
> Rivers and streams
> Sometimes I see in it
> Passions and dreams
> Sometimes it crests
> Like a wave in a sea
> Sometimes it nests
> Like a bird in a tree
> Sometimes it rings
> Like a vanishing bell
> Sometimes it sings
> As if casting a spell -
> Sometimes it flings
> Like a lasso, ensnares
> Prey. Or grows wings
> And then flies everywhere -
> Sometimes it drops
> Like a leaf from an oak
> Sometimes it stops
> Like a belltower clock
> Sometimes it wafts
> Like a sweet summer breeze
> Or like a raft
> It floats over the seas -
> Sometimes I feel it
> Caressing my ear
> Holding me in it
> Drawing me near.
> Sometimes I glimpse
> What your voice holds within
> When it so seems,
> I can fully glean
> Its warmth and softness
> Its passion and peace
> Then I am lost in
> The most perfect bliss.
>
> Ilya Shambat
> https://sites.google.com/view/ilyashambatpoetry

Good read