cute love, desire, dream, meaningful, remember, sweet love,
by Caycay Jennings |
You first held my hand in rapture's own sown, green honed land -
Shared time was easy laughter that rose layered throes thru joy-spiced air -
Your lips brushed mine with youth's stirred flair by a stream's calm stare -
We lost focus under night's starry skies as sparks dazzled our sighs -
No years shook my dear memory of our young frays sated in twilight rays.
Jane 15, 2018
by Caycay Jennings |
desire, destiny, emotions, faith, heart, sky, soulmate,
Moon held and made
bathed-beams of love sonnets
dried by sun's own romantic pledge
of streamed warm rays on love's future solace ~
As days then nights honed my prayers
my pain slow climbed sky stairs
and found you there
... CayCay Jennings
August 31, 2018
by John Freeman |
inspirational, angel, angel, love,
Love substance seems to be twain
by the natural human brain
and will always remain the same
as thinking remains on a natural plane
When human concepts we clip
beginning to touch angel wing tips
arising from lies, earthly disguise
realizing demise, as an angel wing flies
Agape returns, precept we learn
we’ll know what we’ve missed
by heavenly love we’ll be kissed
we’ll know as we’re known,
for by love we’ll be honed
All life is love in action
diminished in earth by human faction
perfection by heaven, loves action
diminishes human plane diffraction
by Caycay Jennings |
appreciation, beauty, creation, spiritual, summer,
I love to season sense engage.
It clears parts mortality-dazed.
When young, summer’s tune range
was firmly, soul-deep engraved.
When grown, human ways hush
our faith with logic-grown mush.
Summer composed odes grant
faith prose that hopes maintain.
The soft song of a summer breeze
lifts aloft a wonderous spree
of smoothed, spliced rapture
too song silky for feel capture.
Summer’s charming, velvet songs
hold notes of mystical essence
assuring we’re a spiritual presence.
Seasonal airs of sensual flairs
are fluid trilled, space tilled, and
sound honed by summer’s hymn.
Air's fine played tunes, early man named wind.
September 1, 2018
by Estela Canama |
Love in Friendship
Don’t neglect a friend,
Especially in times of difficulty
Friendship is the foundation of real love;
Giving advices and confront each other-hold the hearts together.
A love honed through friendship lasts for a lifetime!
by Paula Larson |
Like bakers kneading moments for their draught,
that using once, discard for the new taught,
is wisdom learned mistaking from honed sought,
nor guilt could so define, for none is wrought.
A newness of prevailing is condensed,
from virtues needing tithing, thereby naught,
as even sin unconquered leaves it ought,
so building in thy grace, would seem as sensed.
Design of living's faith, not piled or fenced
has no regard for guessing - love not dense
is as the widow's coffin, fully whence
love meant to love as endless, no expense.
To love so, ne'er durations's increments,
but true eternal posting, new ... intense!
by Zamir Osorov |
Thanks for your keen
And pleasure and kindness
For the descending and mercy
Thanks for the deep and instant
What happened with me.
It, s look really as if somebody
Maybe great heaven
Prepared and honed
Every part of your soul
So precious, close and congruent
With mine in the details and wholly
In the basic things, stems moods and the core
That I am truly astonished now -
Why we are so long
Searching each other
In that not so big Globe
its just a wonder,
my best beloved.
by Handful Haiku |
I bared my insides,
you sharpened knives on my ribs;
cutlery, bone honed.
by Judith Palmer |
hero, journey, longing, love, missing you,
I found his footsteps
There, on the beach
Strewn with flotsam,
Almost out of reach
I walked in his impressions
Gently, feeling him move
Step by giant
In the groove
Honed and alone
Passionate and deep
Poetry in motion
This man is unique
"Life, Simmons, is fluid"
In my dreams
And waves crash around
In a magical scene
Across the ocean
Carry these charms
Bring him, wind
Bring him now
To my arms
by David Nickle Read |
Within thought’s shadow written
‘Good memory takes time’
Telling tales of paths half forgotten
Honed by nostalia’s perfect love
Memory’s ghost dances through vision
Inspiring pen’s lithe subconconscious journey
Wandering phantom lanes of twisting thought
Bygone Oaks bend in yesterday’s greeting
Crows I once knew echo cries from the past
Silent the gale batters my distant shore
As I wander lonely tracks of youth
Always they lead me slowly here
Sometime next year
by Jo Bien |
the old year now fades
with this pen honed by your hands
sonnets from my heart
by Ruphen Johny |
allegory, celebration, day, easter, farewell, friendship, love,
Will there be an other day?
When time is graciously slowed to relish this charm.
When pain is selflessly shroud in each others palm.
And an unfailing love would cuddle us in warmth.
Will there be,
Prayers and wishes so whimsical to the quaint.
Tears and twitches so logical to the pliant.
And a shine honed by the purity of our alliance.
Will there be,
A climate so fitting to our chuckles.
A climax so palpable to settle.
And a tune from hearts to reminisce such trifles.
Never will be 'nother day,
As bright as this one, that's shone on us.
As great as this one, that's won by us.
And as rewarding as the one that we hold in our hearts.
by John Lawless |
How to describe a man
met only through his words.
I believe he wore the cloth loosely
not allowing it to bind him
nor hide behind it.
His writings carried a passion,
a love of words honed
into a soothing balm
or a barbed rebuke.
He wrote of life
(he would have shunned that word)
dipped in its complexity
shielded by his love
of its simple truths.
I knew him
only through his words
as they became flesh
etched into the fabric
of poetic memory.
He was a man
that I am glad to have met.
If only through his words.
John G. Lawless
by Johnette Loefgren |
Kiss my eyes
with your lips,
inhale the visions,
peel ing strips,
from all the years,
gently excise with
honed down from
the love we made,
let me see
by Sonja Kaufman |
fruit, growth, pain,
When she finally understood
The pain she had caused
The hurt cut deep
Like the well honed
Plow Blade opens
The earth for planting
Laying bare and ready
But the sower
And the seeds were
Laid in fertile soil
And gently soothed over
With hands of love
Then came the rain
Healing tears and
Light in turn
There is hope here
For the fruit
That will be found
by Caycay Jennings |
desire, devotion, dream, emotions, fantasy, inspirational love, romantic love,
Long had his image filled space in my brain
where thoughts of him aimed my fantasies flow
towards pretense he reigned my heart’s domain.
As desires would show, so did my fears grow
over his possible rejection blow.
One night, when attending the same card game,
he swayed us alone in romance’s name
and shared his rich domain of desires known
matched my own excited, ignited flame.
Now, we share a domain love honed and grown.
April 14, 2020
by Robert Wagner |
family, for her, love, marriage,
and with feline
stealth, pick your
way through the
over the years
like radar to
hear the pings
of children’s cries,
hearts and spirits
as you silently
remove your clothing,
the wisp of your
with a slight breeze
you slip within the
sheets. “Are you
sick?” I quietly
ask, as I turn
my warm body
to embrace the
coolness of yours.
“They were overstaffed,”
you softly reply,
and I slip contentedly
back to sleep,
our marriage bed
by Arlene Smith |
autumn, death, hate, heaven, love, peace, war,
An olive branch,
true and narrow;
honed into the perfect arrow.
Pierce thy side, oh hopeful dove;
hate, once again has out bid love.
In crimson pool, thy breath to cease;
this world, sweet dove, shall ne'er know peace.
But now thine soul has been set free,
where love and peace abound for thee.
by Wendy Watson |
What is love?
The Bible and the bards have long since honed
A perfect exposition of this force,
So though my heart this power of love has owned
I'll simply, such discerning words endorse.
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
by Patricia Sawyer |
confusion, hope, lost love, passion, sad
dust and bones.. diamonds and rust
lovers and heroes.. hearts that have gone bust
treasures buried.. promises un-kept
laughter we shared .. tears we have wept
selfish indifference.. well honed through the years
Objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear
the past runs behind us.. a quickened foot race
running and ruining.. our hearts can't keep pace
in foresight the lovers.. where friends once had been
then not even lovers.. and all friendship ends
ignoring.. uncaring.. till blue eyes cried dry
just waiting on better .. as decades fly by
with words and looks.. pierced to the bone
she's praying that hindsight.. won't find you alone...
by Tony Bush |
life, lost love, love, sad,
I cast my vision with a dark lens
uncapped and honed
and set upon
lovers I was seeing.
I held the tears in brimming ducts
restrained and damned,
of almost equal being.
I broke my heart upon gravestone,
cracked and split
and gaping wide
as conflict poured unceasing.
It bled all over happiness
in clouds of red
and crimson tide
with agonised releasing.
I forged my choice within a black spell,
a medium conjured,
forced to bear
in wretched apprehension.
And though you may not understand
my love for you was real,
beyond all comprehension...
by Tony Bush |
lost love, love, nostalgia, time,
Beautiful darling girl of mine, or once you were,
Yet passing time and honed fatigue dissected
Molecules of latent loving down in shock
To a relative surrender unexpected.
All hopeful advances spurned, the lover's
Lissom kiss, and itself drained ice white,
Carnivorous with no teeth and ghostly lips,
Slid into the cheap seats, out of sight.
Beautiful darling girl, or once you were,
Are you more the one and only thing
To light my melancholic dimming life?
Am I no more your once and future king?
by Emile Pinet |
beautiful, beauty, flower, image, nature, rose,
Flowers are ubiquitous and unique,
Large and small carry a certain mystique.
Offering sensual treats where it's bleak.
Wild or cultivated, when at their peak
Each blossom feels like a kiss on the cheek.
Roses and Lambs Breath have honed their technique,
Stand-ins for love, they make a bride's eyes leak.
by Tony Bush |
Silence becomes it's own reward,
For what use speech in retrospect
When she can no longer verbally reply?
In the memories I sift and hoard,
In much of any respect,
To another eye within my mind's eye.
Still, she seeks to dwell, in
Of birthing thought and thunder
Always a bright green fuse,
With wisdom and tales yet to tell,
Stacked with bibles of infinite wonder,
The living spirit of my muse.
Still as incisive and razor honed,
Through waters of mental streams,
Somnambulant voiceless words returning;
Almost as if the soul she owned
At open invite my fondest dreams,
Our silent passions still burning.
by James Fraser |
She plays with her hair
In sexy pose
As she bites her finger
The want in me grows
Her shapely figure
Delights my eyes
The lure of her perfume
My body cries
Pert and naked
Her skin so toned
We move closer together
Our intentions honed
As we feel our bodies
Rub and slide
The passion we desire
We can no longer hide
Our hands caress
And grace each other
Our lips meet
In kissing smother
We collapse on our bed
As our night begins
Our hips will grind
In joyous sync
We join as one
Our hearts beating
For from us runs
Our recipe of love
In tender flow
As our bodies glow