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funny, love, sad,
I've never kissed a pig with my eyes closed
Nor have I ever held a hand of time
However, there was once when I proposed
But that was back when I was in my prime
I still recall how much she loved to dance
She'd laugh at me and make my face turn red
She taught me all the secrets of romance
That love was what one did, not what one said
I search the shadows for her purple hue
I take her mem'ry everywhere I go
Its smile has it's own special shade of blue
Its taste so sweet no one could ever know
They tell me only time mends broken hearts
I wonder just how long before it starts.
by Daniel Turner
appreciation, creation, emotions, happiness, joy, love, magic,
Prayer For Her, This Wounded Heart Healed
Please keep this dream in my lost life
remove painful sting and life filled with strife
Let her dance and sing another sweet tune
as I hold her under this, merciful God's moon.
An excerpt from: "As I Hold Her Under This, Merciful God's Moon"
For- Your Best Poem #2 contest, sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Now Submitted for contest: July 19, 2019
Contest: Arbitrium Divisa 3
Sponsor: Gregory R Barden
america, for her, for him, friend, friendship, growth, how i feel, international, journey, love, racism, school, social, together, truth, uplifting,
Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same,
That runs deep within our veins.
If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.
©2013 Honestly JT
deep, dream, lost love, love,
I lay down
A lazy Sunday afternoon
The first winds from the north
Blowing snow like a blanket upon our souls
I fall asleep, in a haze of dreams
Where there she appears and forgive the obvious
The woman of my dreams
Never undressed, mind nor body
Here, in my delusion I beg for her heart
Tears roll down upon her chest
I whisper softly, tell me, tell me
You are my twin, in coldness and the dark
Entwined, we breathe slowly in silence
Words have flowed like the tears of the past
I hold on, in love, in desperation, in ecstasy
I caress her hair, and whisper be mine
Then I awoke, another sad day
for her, innocence, integrity, love, rose, snow, trust,
I think I know the Name of Purity,
It is Your Name -- it holds clear water well!
A Chalice carved almost to shattering,
A white rose, that alone, grows in the dell
With drops of ice adorning its still face
The warmth of heart that comes with falling snow
The few flakes that adorn your lashes, by grace
Delightful cold that creeps up from below
Loquacity that speaks only the Truth,
Amazed by every small, delightful thing
Ubiquitous praise and unbroken Youth
Right Trust, that gave your finger to the Ring
Inevitable Joy, and whispered Love
E'er faithful, that this all is from Above.
Submitted for: Standard Poetry Contest 175
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
longing, love hurts, romance,
~ MY LOVE SHE'D LENT ~
I followed her where'er she went
Lured onward by her fragrant scent
She clasped his hand, a handsome gent
How could she know my love she'd lent
I died one thousand deaths inside
Choked back my tears with wounded pride
How long such anguish could I bear
My heart asunder to let tear
The hour had come to make my move
My love for her I had to prove
Unsteady I, and quite unsure
Just how to break the news to her --
My tongue was still despite I tried
'To ask her this: 'Please be my bride.'
~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
December 30, 2019
appreciation, forgiveness, love hurts,
With less tomorrows than I've yesterdays
In looking back I have but one regret
Before that last tomorrow fades away
I wish that I could pay an unpaid debt
Back to a summer day so long ago
How frivolous we were with innocence
Two kids in love and way too young to know
Decisions made in haste have consequence
In tenderness I'd kiss away her tears
I'd tell her I am sorry for her pain
Give back the love I'd carried all those years
Convince her that her gift was not in vain
I'd ask for her forgiveness on my knees
Tears of contrition I would surely weep
Then thank her for life's sweetest memory
And with her blessing peacefully I'd sleep
October 10 2016
Was there ever a time she doubted my love?
As a child, did I let her know how much her acts of kindness meant?
No one will ever love me as she did.
Decades have passed, but my heart still yearns for her touch.
Ageless is the affection for the mother who lives in my heart.
*Written March 15, 2015, in honor of my mother who passed far too young in 1984.
beauty, dedication, for her, heart, remember, romantic, sad love,
The rushing wonts of action render these happenings unmovable,
These feelings, passionately felt, to dull words ill and strained
She clings, my koala, with chocolate eyes pining for my green
Though each time she lets me go, she leaves me docile and pained
Once before I claimed her; yes, she did not turn away from me
But instead gazed on how the breeze could sway my branches
I wanted my bark to secrete the sweetest tears,
So she would know how eternally I yearn for her glances
For it is she alone, who can consume and digest my poisons
It is she alone—besides the sun—who gives me reason to stand erect
angst, conflict, love,
Like a thunderbolt through the heart,
She was beauty, a work of art,
A snowfield on a summer's day,
She was an angel here to stay.
Such loving eyes to gaze upon,
How could I ever do her wrong,
The moment of truth did come then,
As I wrote with paper and pen.
Was she truly the love for me?
This is something that I must see,
Plainly my love for her was torn,
To walk in two worlds I was sworn.
One of love the other duty,
Neither shall wane but one must be.
(Eight syllables per line)
mother, me, love, me,
Though many songs are written of angels
I must add to the empire
This small hymn to a woman, a champion of life
Nameless here, but named in all things good and pure
I'll stand beside her work, her artistry astounds the stars
And all light that is given is humbled in her presence
Every worry is smoothed away, all tears absolved
God, let me take her sadness into me and carry it for her
Until I am old, and then I'll have my chance to see her once more
I am not a religious man, but she brings the divine to me
And cradles me forever in her selfless, adoring arms
I love you mother, I love you
I will always love you
Mark Anthony Cotterman
Poetry is white lights falling upon rainbows and snow
Casual exchanges blinked upon a shared pillow
Lip prints etched inside an antiquated photograph
The obligatory holding of hands as a lost-craft
Poetry is the scent of morning kisses
Words that blossom, an arrow that misses
Umbrellas unopened on a drizzling day
A trail of lovers unable to find their way
Poetry is an evening sparrow chasing the moon
Two silhouettes cascading into a spoon
Roses blown from a closed casket
The loneliness of waiting for her to ask-it
Poetry is the answer to what if and why
Tissues capturing the tears but not the cry
Rubies polishing a heart to an imperfect shine
The undefined likeness of I, Me and Mine
for her, love, muse,
I see in creases no others found
where souls seem low
and duty bound
where sparkle waits
in dreamlike states
amid anxious eyes
here her smile lies
I see in darkness under guise of moon
where beauty moves
no heart's immune
where kindness roams
alive in poems
held deep inside
my muse resides
love, life, universe,
In here I can be anything
that you desire,
your lonely soul, your heartstring
even become your ring your locket,
I can evolve to become
your strange universe
one to mould to create.
In here I can become your salvation
help to correct your natural order,
restore your universe
and in it place my life
in your willing clutches,
where life would become magic,
and I the magician able
to fix your dreams and wishes,
and long to become
an indelible part of you
when becoming your life long crutches!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
horror, lost love,
What’s in her mind, sharp lines slice her in half,
Into faded dark red, green and blue,
And the flowers cover up each emotional scar,
From ever even shining on through,
To show the gouges ripped from her thoughts,
To show the bruised, shaken, and torn,
Slit while she slept, in a nightmare of hell,
For her public body to remain an unborn?
What does she think, where does she go,
When her eyes are wide open to black,
When her eyes are blank to all of the noise,
After her soul escaped the attack?
Does she remember those days that’ve gone,
When she obeyed every little demand?
Does she remember those days when she sold her soul,
Just to hold onto his hand?
Tim's poem, Hello Sorrow, was the incentive for my continuance of the sorrowful emotion in Hello Grief.
There you are old friend—
I knew that you were here
wrapped alone beside desolation
hidden deep amongst despair
Hello my sorrow there you lie—
in the wallow of disdain
shun me forth in misery
regret infused past pain
~ ~ ~
Here you are once again
I knew you would return
as a shadow of my sorrow
when for her arms I yearn
Hello grief, my haunting friend
ghostly memory of my heartache
how long will you remain
for a love I must forsake
Cupid, why hast thou cursed me with thy bow?
Enchanting my desires and compliments
Unto a woman who seems not to show
The same affections of my hearts contents
Of vibrant colors I pick each a flower
Laying them by her doorsteps where I daze
I dream of her awake at sunlight hour
Kissing her image that my mind displays
Yet I am like the rain above her head
The way she runs away from showered gifts
I never knew inside my heart could shred
Heartbroken by her distant love that drifts
Only if thy arrow and bow had missed
My fate and love for her would not exist
loneliness, longing, love,
She sits alone in quiet of the night
as thoughts of him wrap ‘round her yearning heart,
and whispers ‘cross her skin; her flesh excites
while longing for his touch when they’re apart.
She yearns to gaze into his eyes of blue
while feeling his caress engulf her soul,
and have their hearts eclipse as love renews;
she longs for his return to make her whole.
She reaches for her parchment and her quill
to iterate her feelings and her doubts;
for him to know her longing thoughts instill,
and from this poet's pen, a poem pours out,
“My lonely spirit aches while you’re away,
and longs to feel your love as hearts replay.”
August 30, 2018
death, devotion, life, marriage, time, true love,
It broke her heart
when Franco died
he’d been her life
he’d been her soul mate
wed over fifty years
For her Franco
she had a ritual
lit a candle every night
so he would know
how much she missed him
Today would be a special day
she felt it when she closed her eyes
wouldn’t be lighting any candle
she took her one last deep breath
set down the path to join her Franco
posted on October 20, 2019
I wonder whether this is love or lust,
If rain reigns in the day or dark night,
Confused as I lay low without foresight,
My soul sails through the sea of metal rust,
Clean my lens and brush my hair just to adjust,
Hoping to see my diamond shine so bright,
This passion can`t be hidden but brought to light,
as I look at the sky to know who to trust.
Heaven smiles at me as my joy abound,
This reminds one that shinning stars are few,
Knowing that goodness and bliss will be found,
I walk towards my pearl for the time is due,
Her beauty and traits spin many heads around,
For her benevolence you have to take a queue.
beauty, crush, feelings, first love, longing, youth,
HER BEAUTY AND GRACE
She mirrors far more loveliness and grace,
than any other my heart has cared for.
From my mind her beauty I can’t efface,
it is she I will love for evermore.
For her heart my first love yearns, her soft kiss,
sweet smile, her long black hair my eyes adore,
with feelings deep, as meaningful as this,
to end the quest, my pretense lead ashore.
Oh, how the heart has waited for the day,
to reach out in loving you, love confessed,
for the love to blossom to find its way,
to your heart, forever to be blessed.
If only I could see my love returned,
instead of my dreams remaining unturned.
animal, farm, horse, may, , cute,
My Molly May
I had a little pony
I called her Molly May
So often I would venture out
And feed her bales of hay.
So then she’d frolic
Kick her heels up high
Round and round she would run
Looking sweet as she passed by.
She’d run until she was worn out
Then to the stable she would go
I’d bed her down then for the night
My love for her each day would grow
She was my, cutest Molly may
This pony always made my day.
25 September 2014
lost love, love,
How beautiful it can be:
see your grandfather still so deeply in love with your grandma after she's gone.
How beautiful it can be:
Hear their love story all over again,
About how they met,
how they found trust,
How they fell in love,
How did they deal with all problems around them.
How beautiful it can be:
Hear, how much he loves her,
how much he cares for her.
He said:"She's gone but her pure soul is still with me"
He said:i saw her....she's waiting for me...she's waving at me....She wants me there with her..."
the last thing he said was:
I can't live without her,
I HAVE TO GO!
John Henry Galas
beauty, body, cute love, for her, funny, i love you, princess,
I don't care if you are inaccurate.
I don't care if you're a tomboy.
I don't care if you're an oval or a circle.
I don't care where you come from or what you were.
I don't even care if you have a coconut cream pie-in-the-face.
You are good.
You are perfect.
You are a princess.
And I will always love you.
Like you should love yourself.
for her, kiss, love,
A kiss for each cheek,
is what I'm sending to you.
One will last for only a week,
the other should last about two.
I'm sending them both on a string,
so when they land, give the line a tug.
On my end it will cause a bell to ring,
telling me my kisses have landed with love.
Don't worry about the line getting tangled,
because when I blow kisses they shoot like stars.
They are guided with great love from the angles,
on a string of love to be forever ours.