The Poet’s life, sweat and tears,
Feelings grown thru many years,
Dreams, Fantasies, Disappointments,
That nobody wants, that nobody hears.
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Rose,
So painful, the thorn,That is what happens,When Love is torn,Ripped from your heart,Where it was born!
Like some magic potion
Poetry takes youBy the hand,Calming your sorrowsHiding your fear,Spreading love,Wiping away,That lonely tear.
I hear the music in verse,
With its notes, the music of language,Drills deep, knows no fences,Senses, the lingering mystery,Behind all creative lenses.Oh Language, Oh Language,Oh Poetry, Oh Music!I never tire of your consequences,Forever surprising and thrilling,Our most sensitive nerve endings.
A poet is nothing,
They navigate together,Thru the sea of sensitivity,And poetic imagery.
One moon, One life, One earth
Conquer dreams, discover streamsNavigate oceans,Love all that’s goodIn good proportion,Life is a Miracle worth celebrating,A tender object of devotion.
Like the air that circles by,
Your beloved presence, here,Indispensable, my Dear,When I know that you’re not near,Black, dark Shadows break all Light,Life becomes a useless sight,In the sadness of the night.Without you, there is no me,Being has just stopped to be,Oneness is so obsolete,Two hearts should as one now beat,Only Love can Life complete.