When will we learn to communicate,
With truthfulness, not only clues?
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Poets notice little things,
And they’ll write just a few lines,That condense the thoughts in Time,That can even sometimes rhyme.
There’s nothing better,
But what is really Love?If only I could answer that,I’d own the Sun, the SkyAnd all the Stars above,However,Love will always be,The sweetest of mysteries.
Some Poems,
And sing the freedomsOf Sea and Soul,Some poemsNot all,Are written feelings,That can pierceRight thru the soul,Yes, written Feelings,And you have but to surrender,To the incredible Magic of it all.Poetry is so Unique,With emotional devotionThe poet speaks, from the heartThere is no other wayFor Poetry transmitsNot only wordsBut also feelings that can speakInvisibly, harmoniouslyTo all othersDirectly…
The night is still,
Rejects the cares of day,And Memories wake up, the night,While others fade away.These Memories have taken hold,They squeeze my heart and pain my soul,With thoughts of yesteryear,The peaceful dreams of life, it seems,Are by no means, now near.I think of you, our sad ‘adieu’,My heart just filled with tears,I look for you and all I…
Love,
The immaculate conceptionOf Rose and its thorn.
A feeling deep,
Instead of chocking,Words run deep,A flight of birds,From head to heart,A trembling motion,Gives the start.A poem born just like a child,Whose love is now a faithful guide,Direct emotion, cannot hide,The happiness, now by your side.A poem born, that’s part of you,Like from the tree, the fruit is too.