by Victor Buhagiar |
Categories:
love,
A Tribute to Slim Whitman
He led his horse towards a pool,
Near a lovely large cotton tree.
Far away, he heard the hooves
Of a thousand bison as they crossed
The dusty prairie in search of food.
Near at hand stood a large tepee
From where his lovely Indian emerged.
Dark hair, dark eyes. a beauty beyond compare.
She smiled but stood erect at the doorway.
Instantly, he lifted his guitar.
And in a yodel tune, he sang his love.
How oft he repeated his refrain,
"You belong to me,
I belong to you."
Finally, he put down his guitar.
Slowly, he approached her,
Tilted her lovely face up,
Their lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss.
by Brandon Carter |
Categories:
beauty, how i feel, love, nature, poetry, sky, spring,
Written January 25, 2016
Clouds rolling through blue pastures like bison over buildings
Perched atop the spires that yield signals to lands far away
Speaking truths to any ear that will listen
In any language worth speaking
by Stephanie Kjaerbaek |
Categories:
confusion, life, love, mystery,
A scarlet tear drips o'er the thorn,
As she runs her stained fingernails along the edge.
The blade digs a little deeper:
Beautiful like her lips that speak so silently;
In the irony of a moment, she fades.
As a summer rosebud in blossom penetrates;
The starlit sunlight's gasp against twilight's chill;
A sharp cold turns to the flu.
Dances of fever and anger o'er the horizon:
Blood splatters across the sky.
After the battle of her dreamy cowboys against bison;
She stares up in wonder at this moment.
As she continues to caress the blade;
That lovely rosebud cuts a little deeper into the flesh.
She blesses the curse of roses.
by Raul Moreno |
Categories:
nature
The love of my soul...comes after I pray,
I thank the Lord...for the start of each day.
My journey of peace...comes after I yawn,
Observing the fields...as night is withdrawn.
And watching the fog...ascend from the limbs,
To the sound of grace...as birds chirp their hymns.
The symphonic quivers...of rustling leaves,
As the romantic wind...kisses the trees.
The golden dawn...beaming bold shards of light,
Lighting the path...for the birds to take flight.
While the brook meditates...easing its rage,
As the pallid clouds dance...on their blue stage.
I praise God...after seeing the bison,
And thank Him...for these morning horizons.