For that is where
We all end up,
But at least
I have the joy
Thru writing
Of never
Having given up,
Sustained by
The harmonious
Beauty,
That surrounds
Life, Love
And Poetry
Well worth,
Not ever,
Giving up.
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Love in full,
That embracesYour whole heart,Love complete,Can compete,With the heavens,And the stars,Love your face,Love your soul,Inner beauty,Far apart,From the world,From all sinIt was You,From the start,Only You,In my Heart.
LOVE,
Harder to define.
The guitars and castanets,
The ambiance is of romance,As each one does what he wants,Individualism peaks!For the Spaniard is not meek,Proud and boisterous is He,And Romantic as can be.Oh I love you, Spain so far,Followed always from afar,Land of my ancestral star,Understanding who you are.Your artistic talent rests,Quite a gift, one of the best,Pride and Passion coincide,Living always at…
Some say,
That’s not really fairPersonally,I find it liberatingOut-reaching,Deeply touchingIlluminating,Full of loveAnd gentle care,With enoughHope,To spare.
Sometimes I feel as if,
Fluttering around, fluttering aroundAnd I can’t go ahead, unlessI write their flutters, down.But please don’t tell anyone!For they may come aroundAnd take me to a place,Where all dreams are drowned.
For All
May the Poet write,It is in everyone’s freedomTo like or not to likeBut if, by chance,You fall in love with poetryYou will not regret it,For so much closer,To Heaven,You will always be.