Fluttering around, fluttering around
And I can’t go ahead, unless
I write their flutters, down.
But please don’t tell anyone!
For they may come around
And take me to a place,
Where all dreams are drowned.
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They’re Fantastic!
That, A film, is a film, is a film,Nothing more than just, a film,But, They’re so much more than just that,A great film is a piece of art in movement,An artistic revelation, a creation come to life,That was written by the hand,But was born in the heart,With human interaction, feelings,Playing a monumental part,A sort of…
My love, my heart,
You’re all I’ve got,My treasure and my life,A bit of light,In lonely night,You make me still,Feel I’m alive,For me, somehow,More than enough.
I have no one with whom to share,
My likes, dislikes, my doubts, my cares,The few I know, they just don’t care.Along the Riverside, I walk,Preferring, mainly not to talk,Ideas that ponder in my head,Yet, Silently I go ahead.Alone, beyond all human reach,Nothing to learn, nothing to teach,A Cold Wind blows just up ahead,As Silence folds its empty head.
The Art of Language is Poetry,
So, you and I, we will never be apart,As long as a poem, everyday will start,The romantic beating of our helpless heart!
A word, a touch, a flower,
That form a loving tower,Each time you’re close to me.
To be moved by Poetry,
Words caressing, tenderlyOpen skies and spirits free,Love is born, spontaneously.And a Poem conquers all,And becomes part of your soulTo communicate that wayTakes us to another worldWhere love, peace and beauty roamWhere life’s sentimental journey,Can at last find its true home.