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 Nov 2020 Bish Sinha
caroline
pony-tailed playmate
head tucked in her shirt
gazing steadily down
at her toes in the dirt

chaos tiptoes around her
naive oblivion
journeys in far away lands
just west of the meridian

watercolor fairy tales
bleeding outside the lines
unaware of the danger
unaware of the signs

let me sit with you, darling
in the dampened flower beds
and paint a new world
for us in our heads
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Jessica Duru
With lips wine red;
and face white-skinned,
and ***** perfectly fitted,
alongside curvy graced hips
And a lavender scent to match...
Her beauty doth glows
Like that of a new born
Brought into the world
So innocent and meek
But yet ravishing
In the most sweetest way I'd ever seen

For even in the shadows,
Her beauty is never concealed
And even when darkness prevails,
it overcomes every bits

Like the roses blooming in the meadow,
and the sun shining from whence it's placed;
So shall my love for you be
Never ending,
and forever eternal
For as long as I've always got you with me,
I wouldn't ask for anything else,
My sweet sweet Amor.

Ciara
2-FOREVER WITH YOU
Love's True Beauty
The poem centers more on the beauty love has to offer. The poet personae in this part of my poem, compares the beauty of his lover to that of love, which is sweet and magnificent in every way. Here, he goes deeper into confessing his undying love for her and how he'll never stop loving her, no matter what happens....
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Jessica Duru
I gaze endlessly at the stars,
my legs rooted to the ground,
my mind trapped in a deep ocean of thoughts;
wondering and dreaming when that day would come;
the day my victory would be announced,
and my name heard on every lips;
the four corners of the earth calling out to me,
and the warm breeze carrying their wild cheers,
as I go dancing all gay and bright,
celebrating my new found victory
If only it would be...

~Ciara
8-VICTORY
Envision
There is no greater joy than the hearing of ones name on every lips. A name always to be remembered and never to be forgotten. A name to be carried on from generation to generation. The poet personae, pictures this in his mind and wished so much it would become a reality, so some day he'd be heard, and celebrated by everyone....
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Jessica Duru
There is no greater pain
than the loss of a child
An innocent being
brought into the world;
Conceived for a purpose,
and born to bring light,
to shine aglow,
and to bring joy to every mortal
that walks the earth

A child born to bloom;
Like a flamboyant
standing in the meadow
And the red roses
standing in the sun
But soon taken away
from the world,
and snatched from the nest of its mother,

A mother so longed
to be blessed,
and her prayers be heard
from the heavens
Her heart is broken
Her tears worsened
from the pain,
as they go wetting the ground
like a flowing river,
and a running stream
bound to flow
And shall it continue to be
Or her heart be healed
from her aching loss.....

~Ciara
9-A MOTHER'S TEARS
A Mother's Loss
The first part of this poem narrates how a mother loses her child. A child she had longed hoped for, only for him to end up at death's horrific embrace.
The second part, titled "Death Eater", describes how little children were taken away so soon from their mothers' grip, as they wept and mourned in pains....
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Rhiannon
You’re not ready to talk
Though we use civil words
They’re about nothing deep
So many things unheard
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Rhiannon
The leaves will change
And fall to our feet
The winds will blow
Let the branches meet

Crisp morning air
To fill the lungs
Of townspeople walking
Warmed by the sun

Yet still our paths
May not yet cross
Lest we bathe
In seas of loss

The world still turns
So trapped in place
Stuck longing just
To touch your face
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Rhiannon
Though I wonder why
You don’t see me as equal
I know I’m worthy
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Ky
Creation
 Aug 2020 Bish Sinha
Ky
Between the lines
of now and then,
you’re drawing me
with ink and pen.
Every ridge
and every curve
you’re carving out
what I deserve.
Tangled veins
and knotted hair,
a thunderstorm
of senseless care.
Between the breaths
of God and man-
You’re writing me
just as I am.
With fractured bones
and black-hole eyes,
painted purple,
ringed with lies.
All I am
is what you see
and what you make
is all I’ll be.

— The End —