How normal are we?

Such great satisfactionSuperb interaction,As nothing else can!All you need,Is a poem to readAnd plenty of loveAt hand.

You filled heartsAnd rooms and playsYou became a star,Whose light went farJust because you wereThat way.

Things we know Nothing aboutThat even if we write them,Love them or forget themThey will never be oursFor we live inIgnorant towersWith no flowersOf Truth.

I am the ending,You are the start,That brings love and beauty,To my tired heart.Maybe tomorrow,There will be a way,I can say I Love You,And possibly stay?Then we’ll be together,In the light of day,Hopefully, Together,Till our dying day.

Discover gardensTilled with happiness,Human flowering at its best.Oh Venus!Open in usThat divine caress of love,Make us pureWith the frightening whitenessOf a new born dove,Make us know, the divinePleasureOf how it feelsTo seek immortality,Thru loveSo we may savor,In our lifetimeWhat the StarsIn their infinity and light,Are supposed to be,Made of.

I’ve given up,Trying to make things right,When they’ve never been,When they never will be,Totally right,Now, I just close my eyes,Go into Space,And write.

Poetry’s their ultimate measure,While lies and bitter words,Are no one’s human treasure.

A certain peaceful gladness to the soul,And Poetry knows that,Best of all.

That laidThe Golden Pen.And We,Don’t even know,How or When.

But I’m strange too.Two Strangers,Loving from afar,Dreaming Of,A reachless, Star.

You feel, you write it,All, no partsNothing ever stays inside,A poem is a one way ride,With truth and beauty,At its side.

Without effort,Sincerely,Into Life they go,And understand,That guidance in poetic land,Is just as necessary,As helping,Or taking someone’s hand.