Of a poem’s sound,
And they may enter your heart,
Nesting there forever,
By your glory, crowned.
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Corruption, Corruption,
All that is honest,Truthful and sweet.
Poetry!
EssentialsSome different,Some haunting,Some purely,Tantalizing.All,Totally feltWithout regret,So much,Of our humanityThere, survivingIn such narrowSpaces,That amazingly,EncompassSo much of Life’sComplicated,But complete,Portrait.
Writing is my passion,
Music to my ears,Part of me is song.When I write a poem,I am never aloneIts tears are my tears,Its images, my smilesAnd the feeling of loveIt gives me,In me, never dies.
Oh! the vicissitudes
Of Twenty First CenturyLife!No one from now or after,Will ever be ableTo even understandWhy so many,Wanted to,Quickly escapeTo the Hereafter.No one seems to be ableTo get along,Humanly,We are, clearlyA living disaster!
I think in midnight dreary,
And faded out of sight,A mountain has its morning light,Shinning with Hope that will delight,Life sometimes has that too,But when the fighting years are done,What will be left of you?
Rose,
Nature’s petals into rhyme,Was there ever in creation,Such pure beauty, and sensation?Rose,You must surely have to be,Butterflies’ greatest temptation.Lover’s smile,Best of creation.