I cannot but somehow wonder,
What would be greatest delight?
I have come to the conclusion,
That Life’s mostly false illusion,
Confusion, mixed with fright,
But one thing is pure and noble,
The miraculous ability,
To communicate Emotion,
Thru Art and Love’s devotion,
Being Poetry in motion,
The troche bearer of emotion,
For the soul, sweet guiding light.
Time marches on and kills,And We? Dream our immortality,But waste our lives fighting,Over trivialities and stupidities.Our lives are but tiny rivulets,That never really reach the Sea.
To make us who we are?Each card so differentEach game played, too,The one thing we know,For sure,Is thatI, will never become, You.
Who’s to tell what will ignite,The Senses,Views do change,and times do too,Things accepted,Once taboo,All can change and fall apart,Hard to mend, a broken heart.
The perfume of a flowerThe language of the sea,The dream,That is love’s promiseGreen miracles, called treesThat let us live on earthEnjoy all beauty’s worth,The red rose captures passionIn the early morning breeze,The love that follows birth,All mother’s, bless them, pleaseFor Love is so importantTo lift the spirit high,Without it we just languish,Then wither and just…
But nothing is without, a mark,Your life a song, go light the spark,The spark that makes you live and say,‘I love you more each passing day’The search of happiness and then,You have to start to seek again,Nothing we have will ever lastOur Feelings can’t escape our Past.
Too much!When intensity’sToo great,You become a poetEven at an early age,To give ventTo all that passionTo content,Life’s deep compassionTo express,And to give birthTo all the love,You cannot ration.
