Life’s yearnings
In storms,
Battered by
Devastating winds
Frail, turning,
Love, carries on
Its story,
Still untold.
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She’s a ‘ wonderful speaker’,
And really does very well,There are always Imbeciles,Brought and bought,To make her ego swell.
Poetry is like a prayer,
It can be a guiding light,In the darkness of your night.Poetry is like a Rose,Open petals do compose,Musical, poetic thought,New Worlds, creativity,All the secrets of the Sea.Poetry is at its best,When Love makes a loving nest,To respect all living things,And embrace the joy Love brings.
This Country saved my life,
I will not let it die,And just stand by,I will defend our Liberty,That perfect Human right,That tyrants crush on sight.Our words will be our sword,With Truth we will go forth,Once Liberty is lost,The road to Hell is crossed.
Emotionally destroyed,
No mountains left to climbNo Love, sublime.Life pitter, patters on,But once you’re doneYour doneFinito, FiniteWhere to go?Follow the sun?There is no life leftIn the melting snowNor is there any hopeFor Love to grow.
Poetry was meant to share,
Feelings silently come on,Here today, but then their gone,Curious how they fluctuate,Rushing in or rushing out,Strong today, tomorrow’s doubt,Yet there is something that’s sure,Love so deep and true and pure,Never losing its allure.
Oh Love!
Do not forget usAnd leave usIn Loneliness,As we wereWhen we were born,Most lives areOr should beA searchFor you, LoveOur natural nestOur dearest home.