For They are a Gift to us All,
Living monuments,
Of kindness and incredible talent,
Given to the spirit,
Not to the flesh,
Pure and simple, overture,
Human Love thru Generosity
That’s all.
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A poet’s gift to others
And when appreciated,Nothing better,Ever heard.In our materialistic world,We sadly findArt’s bitter battleHoping to survive,All Poet’s Words,Try also very hardTo keep the artistic spirit,Well in hand,While poets’ spiritsStill on Beauty thrive.
A pearl of a poem,
Smooth, round, pure and white,With words that say,In a nautical way,Because of you, Pearl,Beauty, became a poem today.
Lingering light,
The approach was right,The outcome, painfully,Subjective,One sided, so divided,As the Earth is from the Sea.And as I walked away,Not knowing what to say,There, was this light within me,Always there,Not letting up,Lingering, so painfully,A sentimental journey,Of a love never to be,But still vividly burning,Deep, inside of me.
Fine linens and White sheets,
Beauty is now in retreat,Seems sex ghoulsHave taken over,All the romantic-sweetnessOf Love,It’s overOver and out.Oh how I miss,Those white cliffsOf Dover,And the salty whiteFoam of the SeaThat never againWhite pure will be,As even tears will loseTheir meaning and transparency!As Purity of White is murdered,Taken away forever from humanity.
Happiness, Sadness
In well written poemsOf human esteem.Nothing communicates,Like poetic verseNor is as far reachingAnd velvety terse.
If you don’t feel it,
Like with a motor,In the dark,I’m speaking of creative Art,It cannot live,Without ‘the Spark’,That lights the way,To inspirational mystery,Without which, creativity,Would only fall apart.