[How about some Haiku? I've paired those that are of the same theme.]
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For years I'd lived far
Across from the Atlantic,
Then I went back home.
The thought is vivid
Of the day I met my mum -
Her skin was mellow.
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My love, love, is deep -
As deep as the red of this wine.
Eyes, like this glass, show through.
I catch your weary look
From across the grand table,
I'm inexpectant.
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What is this fire
That burns on and on inside -
Mute, yet troubling?
Would language help it
Speak, reveal and manifest,
So it rests quenched?
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