Like ship that rides the ocean crest,
And then finds port in Tenderness,
A Love like this our heart does bless,
And your whole life is one Caress.
Don’t shut me out and love me too,
The tender way that I love you.
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Now,
Has lost its protective coverAnd no longer the TruthCan they, smother,We will finally see!All the Poisonous Crabs sayThey had nothing to do,With the ConspiracyThey helped staff,To gain power,‘Unwillingly.’For all people that live and breathTo be free, in Democracy.
To have died
From a distant litanyA persistent, song of songsOf impossibilities!Is like having diedA hundred times over,Each day becomesA hideous burden,Difficult, to get overSolitude, unwanted chambersOf isolated sadness,Repeated over and over againWhere nothing makes any sense,Because all is gone, anywayAs the evening sun slowly sinksInto a sea of desperation,Black waters, asphyxiationWhere all dream have becomeUndone,And Sanity is…
Love flowered in Life’s garden,
When dreams were young,And hearts were spun,With threads of golden glow,And happiness just filled the air,Like none would ever know.So very long ago.Now Time has worn,Lives now are tornAnd Love is nowhere near,All that remains,An empty frameWith no one’s nameAnd one perpetual tear.
Poetry,
That laidThe Golden Pen.And We,Don’t even know,How or When.
They still remain in their posts,
1,000 Scandals, not enoughTo remove their Roman sandals,And call their bluff,Vile snakes that bite the core,Of Democracy and so much More.! ! !
Prose is like ‘Eau de Cologne’,
Poetry, is essence, Perfume,Concentrated, delightThat tries to reach the rootsAnd know, all that there is to knowAbout the Tree of Life.