Cherries in Summer,
In Winter, Wheat.
The One I love,
Does not know it yet,
And that is because,
We have never met.
In the coming Future,
When love will be,
What love has to be,
The Flowers will blossom,
Giving fruit to the tree,
The true rebirth,
Sought incessantly.
If though of,Compassionately, with love,We never tire of.
A moonlit voyage thru all Time,The Past can be revived,The Present, dramatized,And the Future, analyzed,Poetic Time, energized,By the Poet’s Faith, in Rhyme.
The key that opens,Life’s secret door,The Ocean that invades your All,The unrelenting, wanting call.The happiness that is expressed,With every kiss, every caress,The blending of the sky, the sea,The being you, not only me,The height of all reality,The Miracle,All life should be!
Feelings that intimately, impress,That touch of heart, love does the restCommunication, at its very best.
Wounded in my Soul,Hit by an invisible arrow,Pain is so personal,Disappointed,Not anointed,Not happy at all,In pain,In my distress,Silence, my only caress,Silence, my only friend,That loves me the best,But cannot feel my pain.Nor help me become happy again.
So much that we love,All consumed by Time,But a Flowing Rhyme,You cannot touch,For true Poetry,Has no MasterHas no Time.
