Must be some poison gas,
That’s polluting the weather,
Or Uncivilized actions of people,
Acting as ever.
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The Humming bird,
The size of a flower,With beauty that towers,Wings tiny that sing.It’s made up of colors,Was born to be freeIn perpetual motion,A joy, just to see.
Don’t write just to write,
Downs and heightsDarks and brights,They should be truthful,Never try to capitalizeOn the misfortune of others,Or provoke chaotic gutters,And if the winds are rightWrite about Love,With true, heartfelt delight,Save the World,With Love’s great might,As you write.
Inspiration,
Does not heedJust to desire,Alone.What moves it,What transpires?Is the great,Unknown.It can’ be forcedJust by desire,Nor artificiallyPerformed,But when it happensAngeles’ choir,Makes you feelYou have come home.
When lilacs bloom,
When Spring is new,I think of you.When oceans storm,I think of you.When days go gray,I think of you.All past or new,I think of you.When morn does lightThe lonely night,I think of you,Yes, day and night,The one not onlyDid I love,But so adored,Never enough.I think of youAnd so regretThe years apartAfter we met,The many yearsI did…
Holding on
Life’s yearningsIn storms,Battered byDevastating windsFrail, turning,Love, carries onIts story,Still untold.
Citizens,
Swimming in pools of deception,Not One word is True,In the political stewOf, deceitful indigestion.