Conceiving the deepest feelings,
That artistically may thrive,
As consolation,
For the love that is gone,
As a poetic drive,
That to paradise and contentment,
Will never again arrive.
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Tis better to have
Than Never to have loved at all,For without love, life nothing givesAnd all is dim and sad and small.
If eventually,
That we do have a spirit,And are not but vile flesh,It will be thru Art and Poetry,That we’ll unravel the mesh.
A World aside All others,
A sweeter Rose, that softly grows,Into Eternity.
Don’t know, exactly,
I love you,But I doIt’s been a long romance,This, You and I.Who introduced us?Can’t remember,But from first rhymeI did surrendered,You made me yoursBy love so tender,You’re the very bestI can remember,All the years of my lifeFrom the first of sweet September,Till the end of our December.Till the end of love and life.
Politics is complicated,
I wonder what species of Spider,Took the very first step,In knitting the flow,Of this decadent tidal ebb.
Invisible, spiritual veins
Like the bloodThat keepsBody and Mind alive,Poetry,You run thru me.