Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Has my touch
hurt you
or
my hands
caused you any pain
or
my arms
inflicted any harm?

Have mÿ lips
broken a promise
or
failed to keep
a secret in silence?

Has my heart
deceived you
or have
my eyes lied?

Why love me
Not?
Color of Yellow

Roses open to Blooms
on vines
a majestic paintbrush Divine

designed to resemble the Seasons' change of Spring life's renewal until Fall's transcendental year's end.

Color of the Sun at morning's wake
filling the kitchen's window sill for
breakfast sake

to a Sea of Daisies
in fields of green pastures

to hilltops of leaves falling in Autumn for us to rake.

Psjwebber (11 Nov 21)
I thought about Your:

pain
    confusion
             resolution
                 to try One's wings to fly

Seeking not to compromise
       not alone We now realize
                     feeling so full of Life

what gifts !!!
Get up my friend
a different way to begin

cutting like a knife

Yes stretch out your arms
Smile Breathe
Love yourself again.

The joy of holding
a real Heart
beating next to mine

healing something deep inside
where my faults try & hide.

Your truth
My truth
addicted
We shared
We cared

So love itself grows & abides.
Autumn Wallace
Trying 2
Understand you
his/her story
time past
with/out
pride, guilt or glory...

a Life
perhaps
of 1 or the other,
or one another
maybe built...

Mind our
P's & Q's
with please
& thank you's
of gratitude

'Love covers
& rhymes
w/multitude
of sin...'

is a place
where our
relationship
must/ may begin...
Julia Shannon Terrell-Alvarado
Whole

Okay
if you say
so
we're more
than the eyes
can behold ...

beneath
the skin we're in
beats
the Soul...

long ago
belonging
to the
universe
whole.

Psjwebber
(19 Dec 23)
Whole
Long walks
in what use to be...

Spring marsh
& summer's edge
forrest paths
along the lake.

in what use to be ...

Scented
three/four leaf clovers,
honey-suckle vines
lilacs & lilies

Now frozen still...

An
Ornithologist
twitches...

as winter’s snow covers limbs
broken by & snapped crisp

in what use to be...

a time
one's youth
a season.
Good morning dear Emma, our haiku writing Ornithologist poet. I take long walks through the woods watching the seasons change, thus the view changes too.
  Feb 10 Prince SJ Webber
Nemusa
Marigolds tremble,
burnt orange flames in the breeze,
sun sheds golden strands.
Ladybird on fragile wings,
rides waves of autumn's sorrow.

Leaves curl, whispering,
the earth sighs with each ripple.
Daylight wanes, fades slow.
Contraction of waves unseen,
a soft grief hums through the air.
Next page