Dating Profile - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

Dating Profile

I am not particularly interested
In the size of your pension
Or body mass index, salary, education
Hair is not essential but hygiene important,
A dash of humor and good dress sense a plus
What I really want to know about you is…
How spicy do you like your curry?
This means more to me
Than job prospects or skill at sport,
How much or how little you talk
In this minor confession
Is the measure of your life,
A foreshadowing of your fears,
Your inherent willingness to risk
Tolerance of all things hot,
How open you are to cultures not your own.
Through taste I have discovered
True compatibility rests
In the garam masala test.
Your ability to seduce me
With the passions of your palette,
Making love to me with each bite
Of saffron rice and naan.
When finally we meet
Our eyes smiling across the table
Forkfulls of contentment
-Written by:  Anna McCarthy Hoffman
My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com/

Sweat Lodge - By Amelia Hawkins

Sweat Lodge

The Medicine Man invited the darkness of the night. Not for business, but for accompaniment.

The wounded, gashed cores started to slink out of their ego's and slip back into the womb.

The silence was loud...but not nearly as loud as the cries from each heart.

Water...it claimed the stones, and then disappeared into the clinging black.

The eve of a major festival in a minuscule city lit up the pit.

The rounds continued, erratically at first, then by pattern as recognition set place.

The darkness darkness was providing a lucid world to lose each self in.

An orchestra...it was getting heavier as the musicians started destroying their instruments.

Then, slowly, smoothly, a song was exchanged.

The air was no longer short, but soupy rather, with the occasional bread roll.

We were searching for asylum in a world of refugees condemned to wander.

The Medicine Man told us to maintain focus on our intentions, but they were long ago gone, ran off while they had the liberty, before we could catch them.

Then, as stealthily as a wild beast scrutinizing its prey, we were back next to the lodge, the pit, the egos'...

The womb had slipped away before we could notice, and we were born again, in the same night.

 -Written by: Amelia Hawkins  

My poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Architect - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

Architect

My favorite is
the bow tie eccentric
spacial planner, mad hatter
making bedroom forts with sheets and string,
treehouses made of dreams
bouncy castles popping up
in fairytale forests
sagging at the seams with heavy expectations
over budget, over inflated
over heated, over rated
over reaching, over achieving
Willy Wonka with pencil waving
paper wasting
intent on reshaping the world

-Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com/

Westminster - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

Westminster

Medieval halls smell of savage times

Acts of aggression, human fear for preservation

Fine clothing, fine minds, fine ideas

Pacing these green carpets

Oak paneled passageways

Used for waging war and enlarging empire

Growth of nations over pints of beer and clinking teacups

Ordering the world, redrawing it’s maps

Connecting railways, common language

Deciding society and legality under

The swinging arms of a glorified pocket watch

Eternal timepiece sounding the hours til judgement

-Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to: http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com

The First Day We Met - By Christina Barningham

The First Day We Met

The summer sky was bright and tender.
You and i were friends, remember?
The clock ticks and the cold breeze flows.
As for me, i know where my heart glows.

Why did you do this?
You did this to me.
You stole my hear,
can't you see?

...I've fallen in love,
with the man of my dreams.
You left all your clues,
and all your little schemes.

-Written by: Christina Barningham

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to my twitter page, which is updated with my writing https://twitter.com/#!/cb7396

DEEP BLACK SEA - By Nichola Jade Wong

DEEP BLACK SEA

Darkest parts of a man’s soul,
Consumed vastness,
Let him plunge to the depths of his black sea.
He drowns, he flails,
Wanders, lost in his pitch black darkness,
His merciless wilderness,
Screaming silently, like a motherless child.
Clouds part high in his sky,
Rain falls from his heavens,
Tears he never once cried,
Infinite oceans, once stirred,
Never seem to dry.

Floating in darkness, all at sea,
Vast watery requiem, eyes closed tight,
Quest for survival, with all his might.
A leak, at the base of his core,
A recollection of tests,
Reminders that his heart,
Sometimes longs to feel, needs to be sore.
Consciousness gone, eyes closed tight,
Floating in darkness for quite some time.
One breathe of courage,
Small peep through an eye,
Stops drowning, stops flailing,
Floats still in his darkness, for a while.

Floating in the depths of his black sea,
Eyes open wide, staring at his darkness,
Absorbing nothingness, pit of his soul.
He floats still just for a while,
Patience, his courage,
Darkness starts to subside.
Clouds part high in his sky,
Light shines down from his heavens,
Paths his darkness with light.
Like blinding sunshine tattooed on an eye,
At first a blind man,
Finds the courage to sit in his dark room,
Just for a little while.
Blind man sees, darkness not so dark,
Brilliant light shines behind his darkness.
Never imagined, eyes awed by a beauty inside.
A man’s treasure,
From his quest in his deep black sea.

-Written by: Nichola Jade Wong

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Pieces - By Daria Renata Jaworska

Pieces

Very infective weather came here today. With all that silence and gore.

What about the shame? Well, it's got an ability to kill us.
What about the shade? It's got the strength to get us back.

What was she wearing under the moonlight?
Was it your star that worn out her thirst?
For there is no might upon her face tonight.
And there is no need to seek for the race of light.

But every sail on her offshore sky has a silver lining...

The most silky and sensitive skin ever written by man was cancelled and torn apart from your brain by society for being nasty.

One December night, one road through hell.

What if what runs your flesh is not what should be called your blood? It makes me sick. A fuel made for stars? A flame? Fever? Some sort of an organic air? Even if the light is not so common - you see.

I will erase my skin, as well as my inner self.

Too proud to let myself be stolen from this world for that long. Such a shame.

Damn. Did that hurt? No, passed as time sheds - for once in a daylight there's someone who win(d)s and leaves for ever.

Jesus what. Four spooky glances at the past. Forty eight entities of consciousness. Fuck you, I'm not gonna answer that gloomy calling.

It's nothing. It's just kind of nothing. What's kind of nothing? Nothing's kind of nothing. Bloody surprise, isn't it? A plastic fever. In every moment we have two basic options: to be dead or to be alive. Isn't it wonderful? It's always something spectacular. It shall always be the most spectacular choice you could've been given for free. I let them forget. It's kind of charming, anyway, it's disgusting. Pretty mindfuckers. It's kind of this kind of a kind nightmare to become a part of me. Very kind. Is it desperate or just blind? It's like I'm drowning deep down in the space, just like a small dead rabbit. So drowsy. So drowsy. So deadly drowsy, so damnly drowsy. Drowsy, drowsy, drowsy. There's nothing but this bunch of roses. So stupid. I care for people who are not even humans for me. Indeed. What, the fuck, is going on?! The grass was stormy that night. Upon the light. Homeless & hopeless. That's the sensation. Darkness. Too near to be real, too far to be fake. Trying to extricate from this volatile world is driving me round the bend. But I know, the point is to believe that your destiny hasn't been lost. Hasn't been lost... that much. On the path that leads to nowhere. Steadily stargazing. Sylvaner sky. Floral drowning. Just like your thought. Just like your flower. Dead amen.

Always a spy, never a killer. Always the last child of future generations. Never promised to be born.
Reckless and wild. The Savior.

Brothers of the haunted blood, we spend our days crying for baptism by the river of life. And here we are, back, in the garden of mythic delights. Pure. Beautiful. Unraveled. Snake's children with the ancient sun on our tails. In the eye of the greatest imposter.

Not able to see you down the street below your confident being, she was sleeping in the voice of depth. Pacing through the void of thousand suns.

Breed city lights upon the nights. Festive silence. As far, as rotten shall it be. And then there'll be no sign of life but this joyful river of dark, dark fate. One hell of a time - how shall it equal being new again? The most justifying hour.

City. It's just a place we leave our hearts in and then we die like every thing. Except these words.

The infantry of infants. Soldier of solitude. Fake & envious. Not jealous. There's a cruel connection between space & will. Believe me, the end is coming to wake you up since the day you were unborn. Wake up, child, wake up. Keep your thoughts into the dust. Pointless words and restless nights - it'll be all gone forever. Fly, fly higher and deeper. Into the lust. Straight into dust. It's just another day to die. It's just another way to kill yourself with a gentle crime. We're all locked up in eternity for ever.

They stormed us into the bargain of our own hearts. And that's how we've sold our dreams. A few skies under the Red Babylon. Children of radiance, charm and thought. With too many broken bones within this ether. Have you ever felt that everything world once used to be melts and sinks through the bars of your hands? If we only could grab the riverblade blindly on this junkyard road.

Because it hurts to be overdreamed to the core. Time is not necessitated. Let it be neglected. Let it burn us down. Let us be thorn by the sudden horses of its insane melody. Come on, jester, let's unchain the absence of endless war. - said the last Scorpio among the living man, standing on the edge of the battle line.

Things. Things, things, things. Why are they being so nasty? Naughty little words of things. Stupid little havin'-fans.

-Written by: Daria Renata Jaworska

My poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit and a link is included to the author's blog:
http://alltradeart.co.uk/daria-renata-jaworska

Believe And You Will Receive - By Leonie Russell

Believe And You Will Receive

Oh Lord, I'll rejoice and be glad for this day!
To you, oh Lord, I pray. With thanksgiving, I present my needs to you.
I know you’ll find a way.

Without you Lord, I have no good thing,
I can do nothing apart from you.
I find faith in your word; in your time I'll be heard,
Jesus, you’ll know what to do.

I lean on you Lord to answer my prayer,
As I cast my cares above.
You'll always do what's best for me, so covered in your love.

I pray to you for guidance, on worry, fear or strife,
I’ll fix my eyes on the Lamb of God, the way, the truth, the life.

“There's no need to add to the worries, that each and every day brings”,
I look to you God to answer my prayers,
As You know, I need all these things.

“Ask and you will receive”,
Your promise , I do believe,
For those who ask, receive,
Those who seek, do find,
To those who knock, the door is opened,
Jesus, eternally kind.

Let me love you with all of my heart,
And seek your kingdom first,
For you alone are the Holy One, in whose love, I am immersed.

-Written by: Leonie Russell


This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

MINDFULNESS - By Robert Gresak

MINDFULNESS

I am ever reminded of God's infinite grace
as I gaze up at infinite space in all its wonder-all its beauty.
I am ever reminded of God's infinite grace
as I gaze upon those in devout prayer, faith and hope shining from each face.

-Written by: Robert Gresak

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

JOYOUS ENCOUNTER - By Robert Gresak

JOYOUS ENCOUNTER

The sky was brushed by flame and all of nature round
about seemed to joyfully shout the divine ineffable name.
Orange, green, and pulsating violet soon appeared, achingly wondrous, scintillatingly tiered.
It was as if the very soul of the Absolute, reared.
A cosmic javelin of glorious light through to the Earths core speared.

-Written by: Robert Gresak

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

LOST AND FOUND - By Robert Gresak

LOST AND FOUND

Cry for errant man,

cry for this abused Earth,

cry awakened souls for that purest of the pure,

for that of shining worth;

that purest truth and the nobility of purest goodwill again come to birth.

-Written by: Robert Gresak

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Ode to a Deer - BY Todd Meade

Ode to a Deer

A doe lay sleeping in the grass
a lovely and enchanting lass
serenely heedless of all who pass
silent and peaceful, she.

Sleeping all the day and all the night
still there she lay at morning light
her beauties attracted hungry sight
her charms were for all to see.

As the gentle wind made whisper-sighs,
vultures wheeled in brilliant skies
crows in joy arrived, and flies
buzzed and flitted merrily.

At night many a roving beast
crept close for the abundant feast
each morsel savored to the least
by appetites eager and free.

An open cage of clean-white bone
in morning sunlight brightly shone
in grass beside the road alone
silent and peaceful, she.

-Written by: Todd Meade

This poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to the author's blog:
http://poems-and-vignettes.blogspot.com

An Ode to a Beautiful Stranger - By Kirsten Mia

An Ode to a Beautiful Stranger

It’s almost a complete moon’s cycle passed, when I met the reason I write this…
A scorching Friday afternoon, frustrated, hungry and tired I was,
When he strode in…past me…..
One of the most handsome men I have ever laid eyes on.
His snowy shirt and coal blazer gave no reason for dismay,
Yet on his being, with those sun glasses, a lethal combination indeed!
Odd how my imagination proceeded to remove every one of those articles
Off his frame until in my mind’s eye he stood as nearly as at his birth (chuckle)
My eyes stared and my mouth itched to say something, anything…
In my trance I could not help but hear him speak of food that I so much craved
And my mind was alight with ideas…Thank the good Lord for allergies…
I milked the moment like my life depended on it…and so did he…
Meal time and he handed my feast like a special package…
He looked at me and I swear he spoke and I heard…telepathy redefined…
Only a corner of his lips curled up and it gave me chills to simply look at…
The stolen glances would have made a glance bank broke if ever…
In the day that followed, he warmed up and charmed,
Sitting across me he asked,”you look pretty, what has changed?”
I fought to rip my gaze from him, not to blush, not to flush,
Such honesty and innocence in his question, I could have yelled
“I’m always pretty!” but I just sat there, drew in a long breath and thought…
My charming “boss”…..sigh….If only he could read my mind….
Soon, the weekend was a past cloud and reality set in, back to routine,
Often my mind conjured him up and wished his presence,
And almost as if on que, he blew my mind, swept me off my feet and crept into my heart...
He had read my works and heard me...he will never know how much it meant to me.
On the day that followed next, my battles caught up with me,
My body caved and he came to this damsel’s call of distress…charming,
I would have trekked to Mecca and it still would not have felt as long as that ride with him.
My words failed me and when I found them, I fumbled through them,
My eyes darted about and when I raised them to him,
The central player of my muck-up still sat insouciantly at the driver’s seat…
He had no idea what he had done to me with his irresistible smile and fabulous anatomy,
He quizzed of my troubles and for some reason, it felt okay and safe to tell
And I told…..
When he opened his mouth in response, I was utterly shocked!
His ingenuity and persistence were something out of the ordinary,
He had a most audacious solution to my woes….HIMSELF!!
Time flew and hours made days, days into weeks,
The conversations, addictive, his laughter gave me shivers, so honest,
I was attracted to him! How unthinkable and inappropriate of me?
There really was no end to the obstacles in my path was there?
I owed my loyalty to another, yet I shamelessly thought of him,
He was like a beautiful serpent….I couldn’t help but fit in Adam’s shoes
REGRETABLY,
The more we told of each other, the glimmer it got in my mind,
He was too different, like we came from different worlds,
My head was a maze with no way out…I did not belong.
In the confines of what we had become, I let it out,
He seemed to understand……..or did he really??
Would he ever understand being with someone yet you felt like a misfit?
Would he ever understand growing up in a home you were a misfit?
Would he ever understand my insatiable hunger to be loved twice as much?
Would he ever feel my fear of repeating history as the present I live in?
Would he know how it feels to be free yet so bound by none of my making?
And even if he did, would he stay forever? What of his friends? His people?
His world was too perfect, there was no need for me there…
None the less, I believed…I guess I was a dying man clutching at a straw,
When he looked at me, his eyes gleamed as if they held a secret,
Like everything would be fine, so bright and trusting…..
I made time and space because he had grown on me faster than I could run,
I was fond of him, of his sweet laughter, his nice voice, gorgeous eyes…
I wished him for myself…but how would I tell him that?
And I think that is where I erred…I wanted to lay claim to a free spirit,
Drag him down to the dungeons and shackle him up in my shadows…
Though in my heart, it was affection…thoughts…dreams…hope…
Now I have made peace with myself...
In our being different we are one, yet in them we are two strangers,
I will not rob the world off all the charm that he is…
Instead I will pack up and head for the hills, continue searching,
And write this ode for him so that I never forget…
That I once met a most handsome and beautiful stranger at heart,
Fly away free spirit, color the world wherever you go…
with love, Kirsten*

-Written by: Kirsten Mia

My poem can be used for free as long as people first obtain my permission by writing to kirstenmiablog@gmail.com

Beauty in a Summer Breeze - By Phillip Knox

Beauty in a Summer Breeze

Swallowed in a dream of bliss,
and sunset berry kisses
in the still of azure skies
I gaze into your eyes.
Your candy sweet lips
hypnotize, mesmerize my soul
making me speak with a lisp
soft whispers of me as yours.
I'm lost for words at such beauty
it eloquently defies
eludes my mind
like visions in a summer breeze
hard to define.
I would steal polyanthus
and lay beds of jasmine
and touch you with the sweetest passion
as i outline your face by candles.
If I could allure you
for you inspire me
I want to liberate your heart
as you exhale pressures with me.
How may I explore the depths of you
open you like oceans,
feel your emotions, your affections
in truth your very essence.
I'm held captive by your style
come away with me for a while
beguile me with a smile
there are pleasures to find.
Your silhouette like shadows of night
tantalizes every thought
every curve in movements of poetic lines
this pantomome in part.
Her finger tips drip elegance
in the moonlight mist
sensations new, her hips
like jewels of skies aglint.
She is delicate as a lily
flawless as a pearl
in sea-blue threads of tapestry
which colors my world, my queen
beauty in a summer breeze.


- Written by: Phillip Knox

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

ME - By Virginia Nzioka

ME

You saw me
At the first instance
Young, simple, untainted, an open secret.

That was me
That you met
My mellow eyes, searching innocently
My supple breasts, slowly rising from my warm bosom
My lips, caressed gently by the evening breeze
It was me.

Was me,
That you timidly touched
That my groin you held, assuredly
Then progressively discovered me
That was me

It is me
That you see
Me, that you have
It is me around you
Full blown, mature, lovely
Curvy, shapely, beautiful
It is me
It will be me.


- Written by: Virginia Nzioka

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Murderer - By Claire Glover

Murderer

I do not read books.
I kill them. Stab my knife into the pages with
A savage joy. Twist until the words jumble
and a stream Of ink rushes down onto the table
The life's blood of a book.
I let it slide through my fingers, feel
Strange joy as the book's soul
Joins with mine. A horrible deed done
I erase the evidence, place the book back on the shelf
Wipe my hands of the ink, the stray words
Clinging to my shirt.
And walk away
Simply a passerby.


- Written by: Claire Glover

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to:
www.quiltofdragonflies.blogspot.com

THE LONG BREATHE - By Sylviah Salima

THE LONG BREATHE

Am breathing from my soul:breathing the beat:
Breathing my way to love
Am breathing the rhythm
My heart is opened
Am breathing :breathing again:

The sincerity in my tone
The dreams in my mind:The pressure unloaded
The forgone hate:
The love discovered:My mind is made
Am breathing:breathing again

The doors of my heart almost forever shut:
The doors of my love have diverted:
The doors of my freedom are opened:
Am breathing:breathing again:

A lie made up is like a tormented soul:
A lie to oneself is like a dagger through the heart
Forcing oneself is a nightmare in broad daylight
Loving oneself is like finding love through the path:
Am breathing:breathing again.

I escaped my sorrow
I rubbed the pain
I found love:I found you
I choose my path:no regrets in me
Am breathing :breathing again.

Am living the moment:Am living the dream
Am breathing again:Am breathing the love
The hurt is like  forgone time
The wind blows my sorrows away
Then I  keep breathing:breathing again.


- Written by: Sylviah Salima

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

The Eyes Of Twilight - By Lee Woodward

The Eyes Of Twilight

A duet – the distant clatter and roll of articulated Lorries;
the internal rumble of inarticulate thoughts – ails my peace.
An instant of clarity is fleeting: unseen faces from broken sleep.
The eyes of twilight wink at sober bed creases.
The morning turns me to and fro,
guides my eyelids up and down – deleting fears and worries.
Then, when I’m ready to fall, the morning reminds me;
The curtains are drawn, the sun ascends,
And reality gently blinds me.


- Written by: Lee Woodward
 
My poem can be used for free as long as people first obtain my permission by writing to:
lee.j.woodward@gmail.com

The Key of Deus Cor - By Madeleine Raleigh Gantt

The Key of Deus Cor

A halt held down our journey, surrendered to the gale
Icy rain cut through the night, the moonlight misty, pale.
A tired train rests on its tracks and dared not try to move
It’s greater strength to the train, the storm would more than prove.

The thin blue light above shook duly with the storm
Though free from rain an spared of wind, the room was far from warm
Silence filled the frigid space, save the howling of the rain
Huddled groups, in turn to hear, this necks did have to crane.

For proposed had been a game, or pastime if you will
To twist a tale of interest, to keep the restless still
Each looking to another, and next did just the same
Their eyes soon met those of an average looking dame.

Her hair was dark and long, a sad look in the eye
her countenance was fragile, as though she was soon to cry
Her spirit was gloomed from a long and tiring life
within she held what made her heart beat in tune with strife

She sat alone, half awake, with one eye she did peak.
Without haste, she lifted her hand and placed it on her cheek.
Her glassy eyes looked past them all, and then the silence broke
For from her corner of the train, she raised her eyes and spoke:

"In fields of green the sun shone brightly down
far through the glades with old trees all around
enjoying solitude and reaping what it buys
there dwelt a mystifying lot of butterflies"

"Though ordinary butterflies these, of course, were not
For as of each, an emotion, it itself had caught
Left alone, they did not with each other stir
And harmony was fresh and sweet as frankincense and myrrh"

"Suddenly the wind picked up and whispered through the trees
diving through the untamed grass and tossing ‘round the leaves
bringing with it rolling clouds which blotted out the sun
stirring up the landscape, no, the storm was far from done"

"Three butterflies, of four there were, began leaving in a hurry
they fought the brutal forces to escape from natures furry
Innately acting with emotions they had found within
They scrambled about to get away, though rain did then begin”

"Richness was a powerful sort, with wings as gold as grain
It had neither a struggle nor a fear of escaping from the rain
Fleeing to collect its things, richness then did go
failing to notice a small struggler calling out below"

"Love was a dainty thing with wings like that of cloth
pink and tender, small and gentle, struggling in the froth
‘Help! Please help!’ love cried to over-passing Richness
But it was far too consumed in its overzealous briskness"

"Love was weakening ever more when by and by came Sadness
‘Have a heart’ love sang out, ‘and save me from this madness!’
‘I am sick at heart’ sighed sadness, ‘I long to be alone’
Midnight blue wings of Sadness, Love, had over-flown"

"Vanity had not delayed escaping from the storm
It’s peal white wings could not afford to be the least bit warn
‘Take me with you’ pleaded love, ‘I haven’t much time more’
seeing Love spoiled with mud, its outcries did ignore."

"Love laid stranded in the storm, its wings no good for flying.
It’s tender heart beat slowly as thoughts past ‘I am dying…”
The pounding rain fell down in sheets, the cold stung harsher still
As Love remained upon the ground, amongst the bitter chill"

"And as its little heart began to fall towards dreadful fate
A gentle hand reached down, and Love did not berate
Tired and worn, Love felt the warmth of hands of true concern
relived of the storm, finally safe, to sleep Love would return."

"Awaking from its restful sleep, Love quickly looked around
Love’s wings were clean, and Love could see that kindness was abound
‘Who was this one of noble thought that saved me from the storm?’
With gentle grace they raised me up with hands so soft and warm."

"And elder sat across the way and stood when Love had woken
He heard the words about himself that Love itself had spoken
Approaching Love the elder said, ‘t’was I who saw you through,
For nothing else could ever see your value as I do"

"Awed by this, Love had to asked, ‘but why are you to care?
why did you save me from my death by the wintry, violent air?’
spoke the elder, ‘as I said, to you I will incline
But to you I must revel, I myself am known as Time."

"Time sees many a rise and fall of mighty nations grand
though through the test of time, not a single one can stand
As Love sees the ages pass, it alone can loss withstand
So you see, my dear child, only time could understand."


- Written by: Madeleine Raleigh Gantt

My poem may be used for free, however, please send an email (simply for acknowledgment) to:
Madeleine_Gantt@yahoo.com

Years before your illnesses - By Deborrah Ann Stenberg

Years before your illnesses

I had seen your strength
I had admired your ambition
I had heard your compassion from soft words spoken
I had observed your devotion and honored your success
Trying my best to encourage your talent.

I had always been proud of your notable achievements
And I’m so grateful for the person you were.
Even though you’re gone, I know that you’re near me.
Watching, helping, guiding, listening, and
protecting.  Protecting is what mothers excel at.

An angel on Earth, now an Angel in Heaven
Both Worlds have been blessed with your presence.

Golden days, precious moments, and treasured
memories.  Thank you my dear mother for the gift
of yourself. Priceless will indicate your meaning.

As a wife to my father, Herbert Frank Stenberg,
a grandmother to my children Chase and Brittney Plum,
a daughter to Jerry and Ann Pospisil,
a mother to me Deborrah Ann Stenberg,
and a very dear friend to so many who adored you,
I praise you for your dedicated efforts.
My heart has been shattered.
I’m very lonely without you. 
Time has passed and I’ll never forget you.
Missing you is naturally expected. 
I’m so sorry for all the pain you had suffered.
Your significance will be highlighted forever.


- Written by: Deborrah Ann Stenberg

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Aged to Perfection - By James Apple Jr

Aged to Perfection

Happy birthday Tammie, just turned 50,
Getting old, but you're still pretty,
Not so many bags, wrinkles and crinkles,
If you ask me, you're aged to perfection!

Like aged red wine, the best, it's true,
Not very good, when it's new,
As wine ages, the tannins bloom,
Into a taste, that's rich and smooth!

Over the decades, times good and bad,
Pick you ups, and put you downs,
Made you the person, everyone enjoys,
The woman I love, and deeply adore!

Your family, a testimony, your life’s greatest work,
Proof of your love, devoted support,
If you’re worried, about “Over the Hill”,
Remember this, you’re aged to perfection!


- Written by: James Apple Jr

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
AppleWriter.blogspot.com

All the Pain - By James Apple Jr

All the Pain

Invisible Chicken, on a crusade,
Show the world, Africa’s last decades,
Murders, rapes, abuses, and more,
By Joseph Kony, an evil Lord.

Their documentary, YouTube 72 million views,
Got the notice, of all the news,
Promptly on a grand campaign,
To show the world, all the pain.

Many think, they are far too late,
The media’s attention, may lead to escape,
Got in the way, going to interfere,
This is the Atlantic Counsel’s desperate appeal.

Even though, some claims may be true,
We must applaud their angle of view,
To show the world, all the pain,
Great awareness, through a public domain.

What would they want Invisible Chicken to do?
Just sit around, feeling blue,
Never express, their angle of view,
Or try to help African, control the pain.


- Written by: James Apple Jr

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
AppleWriter.blogspot.com

The Signs Are Clear - By Shamsud Ahmed

The Signs Are Clear

The signs are clear and I am not too far,
The road is dark and dusty;
The Climb arduous and I am thirsty,
But that emblematic gesture and I am not too far.

Life has many meanings for a thinking mind,
Sometimes we strain and cry;
Before I count my last breath,
Feeling of triumph I need, I should try.

The signs are clear and I am not too far,
If I nosedive today, who will laugh?
I have left a trail of laughter’s behind,
Life has many meanings for a thinking mind,

We live many lives and die once;
Spouse, brother, Mother and friend;
Sister, daughter and a loving father till the end,
Who else am I? I need to comprehend.

Let me expunge my name and my affairs,
Pull my clothes and fancy dreams;
Who am I now? Can I pretend?
Life has many meanings and I do intend.


- Written by: Shamsud Ahmed

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
http://iamdirtyineedwashing.blogspot.com
 

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