So very much is said,
Sometimes,
It’s hard to look ahead.
Riding into the sunset,
Our lives are left behind,
Love was lost in Paradise
Or with frustration, lined.
Life!
What purpose is there?
Fleeting Time,
For what to rise?
The makeup of serenity
The tempest within, hides.
Its so hard to be without you,
Much more than I realized,
Embraced by shadowy memories
As the Sea now gently cries…..
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When minds and hearts
And start to showDevotion,New Stars are bornOf Light,In emotional explosionAs Venus,Once by chance,Imagined,Love’s emotions.
A poem is what poem is,
Just like a kiss,With love and great sincerityA poem is what bliss should be.
Emotions,
Right Ones,Can be transformative.If Deeply spun,You can becomeEmotionally,One,When loveLights onAnd LifeTakes offThen,And only ThenDo we feel,The most superlativeEmotionsOf them all.Please, remember thatLove is like a fountainOf happiness and graceThat is replenishedBy each loving,Embrace.
We had known each other for some time,
Our hands had touched and nothing else,But when I saw You, I was blessed.Yet separation came too soon!You chose the Earth and I the Moon,Never again our paths did cross,And you became my Albatross,My one and only, greatest loss
Poets,
A budding rose,A moonlit sky,The ocean flows,And You, beside,My side,That’s all we need,Our hearts to feed,And then for tears,The morning dew,Mixed in with,Lover’s pride.That’s the way we are,Always dreaming, in the cloudsFar away, so far away, our Star.
Dreams are made of imaginary foam,
Where are they now?It seems to be all over,Looking for that four leaf clover,Over…illusions not knocking at my door,Reality keeps saying, nevermore,I know…When certain loves are gone,It’s hard to feel the morning Sun.
However,
Feelings that
Do not rhyme
At all,
Together,
As we remain,
As strange
And deranged,
As Ever!
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So much news,
And Yet,Can you believeWhat anyone says?Confused and obfuscated,We reach for the Truth,Knowing, very well,It’s been strangled, Murdered!In an invisible telephone booth.
Can you think you know someone,
For, you have never met?Can your intuitionFeel the truth about themOr is it just an imaginary guess?These questions are left unansweredFor even though, I think I know you,All I have to go byAre your written words,And words can play games,No one ever imagined,Could be played,Or even heard…..? ? ?
A Poem sweet and sound,
When by yourself,It calms your nerves,Truly a new friend found.
How much Love
Nobody knowsBut Love is somethingWe should always give,It costs us nothingBut it’s such a gift!
Life is made of snow,
But not even this,Would really matter,It’s love foundThat makes LifeA Rose Sublime,That will notBe killed by Time.
Poets know what they know,
They feel,It does not take,An infinity of Words,For them to understand,What is false,From what is real.