The best crops of the Earth,
The best nectar of Life,
For Thinking, is God’s gift to us,
Miserable creatures, that we are,
Just made of dust, and maybe,
Just maybe,
A small particle of a Star?
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You are my perfect Poem,
An un-poetic Life,Is very sad, you know.We all have to be Dreamers,And love, as Life moves on,We All need much affection,Before all life is gone.You are my perfect Poem,I owe it all to you,Without your Love’s perfection,What would I be or do?
No, yes, Yes, no,
I don’t know,Take a guess,Back and forth,Round and round,Let me go,No, no, no,Love me more!Love’s a game,Dangerous,Finding pain,As it goes,Back and forth,No one knows,Where its Arrow,Finally falls.
Love is Love,
Hate is hate,Maybe not innate,But there’s much too much,Taught, taken advantage of,Love is love,In so many different waysLucky those,Whose lives it sways.
She was a visionary,
Of ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’And Canterbury,All the best of theEnglish Language,Judged, necessaryFor she uplifted,Body and Soul,She was alsoBeautiful and smart,And unrelentingly, poeticShe had the heart,The Bohemian part,Of a Forest Fairy.
I met you,
Since then,The StarsCan’t even tell meWhy!From youI cannot,Be Apart,What have you done?How dare you stealMy broken heart!
In true Art,
‘Au contraire’,On the contrary,This Beauty seems to magnify,Inside Art, a miracleOf all human creation?I think so,For it is the exploration of the divine,The reflection of perfection,That seems to defy mortality and Time.