Poetry is still
The reflection,
The language
Of the Soul,
That has no material form,
No explanation, at all
But connects our dreams,
To ideas and feelings,
That are our finest, call.
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Eyes that say no lies,
ProjectingFeelings without words,Eyes, silently heard.
You’re my Love,
But I’m strange too.Two Strangers,Loving from afar,Dreaming Of,A reachless, Star.
The tears that did not fall,
Straight into my soulForever more.The love I did not have,Where did it go?Stayed as the dream,I’d never know.
Words, hands, mind, feelings,
Poetry, Love,Love’s flight towards the light,Paradise,Opening majestic might,That carries you beaming,Thru Life.Love, so easy to lose,So hard to find,It is what will bind,Our hearts to all human play,The best thing ever,Life’s floral bouquet.
So hard to find,
But, of all thingsIt’s Love, we chose.
You’re the Ten
My poetryMy guideMy loving cheer,How not to love youIf your melodyThru my daysYou slide,Like golden watersAnd inspirational,Tide.