Am alive thru poetry,
All by myself,
With no one to share
This piecing love,
Within me
As if I were living
On a distant planet,
All by myself.
But my love increases
Day by day,
And if one day
I have nothing to say,
Nothing to write
Nothing to live for,
I will go away
Silently, miserably,
Hopelessly,
Because poetry and I
We were born together
On the same day
By some magical
Undeserved favor,
And, by the way,
Love is also born
That way.
Happens to me,Hard to define,What it is,It is a feeling of the divine,A renaissance in peace,Indescribable happiness,When I read Poetry,I’m blessed,And ready,For all the rest!
That lift you upAnd so much more!Their free elixir,Is written gold,Sensitive, lovingPiercing, and boldIt’s not the words written,Nor the adjectives, usedIt’s the feelings, givenWith Love, transfused.
It has a life of it’s own,In which I can participate,But never, fully own.
I love you,But I doIt’s been a long romance,This, You and I.Who introduced us?Can’t remember,But from first rhymeI did surrendered,You made me yoursBy love so tender,You’re the very bestI can remember,All the years of my lifeFrom the first of sweet September,Till the end of our December.Till the end of love and life.
EverythingSooner or laterIs put intoPersonal gear,We are self-centered,Selfish, egotistsThat is clear,Even if ‘socialism’And brotherhood,Are occasionallyCheered!
As the bird does the Summer Sky,With wings so full of loving blue,With song of love forever true.If our paths would have crossed,How easy it would have been,Just you and I,Romantic devotion,Don’t even ask me whyFor you cannot measure,This deepest treasureAnd emotion.If we would have been together,Life would have ever smiled,Why is it that we…
