The essence of the essential,

Not paved by human hands,But by Hearts,That feel for other Hearts,Compassion.

Life is not what one supposesBecause of Love and Roses,We never have enough.

Secrets nearSecrets farThe ‘why of whys’Of certain things,From mysterious fountain,Unknown, springsIf you and IWere meant to beDoes it really matter,Why that be?

When lonelinessIs at its height,And Stars, converseWith mortals,About Love.

The budding leaves of life,So green, so tender soft,So fragile in their growth,And yes!The leaves they start to live,Eventually, generously will give,The oxygen we need and share,Until in winter they go bear.Trees,So strong in wooded majesty,So green your stately throne,A crown of leaves you proudly wear,As nothing else we’ve ever known.You give to us beauty…

Thinking, thinking,All the time,Loving poetry,His greatest crime.Poets, redefine things,Enlighten things,Create feelings from words,In case you hadn’t heard.

The ones I’ll never leave behind,That won’t stay still,The ones I don’t forget, will not forgetThat thru the years become a part of me,Move in my heart, live in my mind,Those moving films,That in my memory will shineA happiness,That no where else I’ll find.

Writing to me is like a soothing potion,A session of psychiatric smoothing lotion,That brings me calm,And even if I never get things right,At least they have been put into motion,Thru this untangling of emotion,That Helps me, keep up Life’s fight.

And Yes,I love you still!Your charming skillsYour thrill at willYour everlasting smile,That melts awayAll that I say,But stillA fool am I,To writeThese lines,And even smileI’ve known this truthNot only for a while.What can I do,I love you, tooWhich indicates,That love’s a stateYou can’t control,And so completelyOut of line.

Much is so contained,In Poetry, that’s famed.A book in a line,A life in a rhymeA World in a poem,And sometimes even,That unexpectedTide of Paradise,It can no longer hide.

For the same old Dogs,Taking a walk.How in the world,Do they dare show their face,After All their histories,Of scam and disgrace!

I wish I were the Autumn Wind,That all in life could change,I wish I were a fallen Leaf,For lightly I would fly,To be together with you, dear,Even after, I die.

A trip to be had,Great Poetry is always a winner,Whether happy, deep or sad,For it flows like Life itselfAnd can become,One of the best, emotionalAnd unforgettable experiencesYou’ve ever had.

That only Love can satisfy,Loving you is like idolatryAnd after all this time,I still don’t even knowExactly, why?

Has never cradled a poem,Has never a rhyme, heard.His loneliness is his poetry,His emptiness, his poem.It’s hard to write,When the heart feels not rightImpossible, to be a poet,When loneliness turns you into stoneAnd you feel and know it.

All brainy and confident,Open and adjacent.The clarity and openness,A poem may bring,Is Amazing!In so few words it can be,The most complete and sincerest,Passion and Truth,Of a person’s inner, sensibility.

If never with true loveYou’ve been kissed.

Human feelings,For me, you sitOn the highest throne.