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I finally realized what I was looking for
It was easy love

The kind that poets write about and you feel at three a.m.
Sitting on a downtown balcony in the middle of a warm summer night
Stars out and time is infinite
Kind of love

The kind they write movies about
Or you feel driving with the windows down
singing your favourite songs
Kind of love

The kind of love that doesn’t exist
Or that you wish existed
But you know deep down you could never be that lucky

You're not that special
You're not that pretty
Happiness and love like that
Is for fairytales
And tv series
And for beautiful people
With ideal lives

Not for me
Not for you
And definitely not for us
 Mar 2017 Aman Dheer
Isabelle
Your kiss on my lips
Doesn't fit anymore
The spaces between our fingers
Doesn't complement at all

You caused my heart
To break into pieces
And now that you are trying to stitch it
The pieces don't fit anymore

The pieces won't fit anymore
Or maybe won't be completed at all
(Because parts of me, I already gave to you)

I may be whole again (maybe not)
But never the same
There will be holes and cracks
But I guess, I can still be functional
I hope..
Another raw poem. Just wanted to let my emotions run through my pen or should I say, keyboard. Haha. I'll revise it, or maybe not.
Love the wife of Loyalty stands with her husband's arms wrapped around her and her arms wrapped around him in an warming embrace.  Loyalty looked into the eyes of Love and said

"My beautiful, beautiful, wife you filled my heart with joy by becoming my wife.  My world revolves around you.  I will always be there for you.  I will stand by your side and help you chase after your dreams.  I will protect you from all threats."

Love gave Loyalty a squeeze and said

"I too will stand by your side and help you chase after your dreams.  I will be there for you in your time of need or when ever you just want me by your side."

Love and Loyalty looked into each other's eyes and began to kiss.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum
I thought maybe if I was his secret,
he'd keep me forever
 Oct 2016 Aman Dheer
Keith Wilson
Water  rushing  down  the  drains.
And  through  windswept  country  lanes.

Trees  brushing  water  away  with  their  leaves.
Birds  sheltering  under  the  eaves.

Pools  on  the  lawn  appear.
It,s  a  dreadful  night  I  fear.

Pitch  black  little  to  see.
A  new  day  may  set  us  free.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
Look up and breathe it all in
The sky is crying, exploding
with a torrential waterfall.
Inhale natures’ showering
an unblemished symphony
The black cloud’s unavowed weight
lingers invigoratingly overhead

Emotions ebb and flow
with the moment’s
immanent spirit of light;
there is a liberating sensation
that excites anticipation
of the sky’s impending
purposefully fated  release ...

Heavens… flood down holy water
in a drenching act of baptism
a merciful drowning in a river
of celestial tears
Dowsing rains wash over
in a cleansing rain

Refresh the dust and ashes
the fallow summer leavings
What once was a blossoming presence,
evolving into a dimming  
cold winter reign...

Now all that remains is but
a shadow of what once was;
hearts and bones nearly eroded away
by the years of fallen tears

To rinse away unrequited love’s
stagnant inversion, washing away
the invisible bonds that bind
to the loathsome heavy ball
of an unforgiving chain ...

Know the cleansing rain
is the spirit of love, washing over
a malnourished heart of soul;
exposed and bared naked
to a remiss world

Looking out with thoughtful eyes
into the boundless universe
Never to stop believing
rejuvenating dreams course beyond
this long road

Imagine the storm clouds
parting in the ominous
threatening sky
as an uplifting awakening light
comes shining through;
renewing the promise
that surrendering to love
shall renew purpose

and it feels like rain...
baby can you feel it (?)

December 2012 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved                  .
The first cleansing rains of Oregon Autumn
sent me looking back for this poem
from The Word Whisperer collection
unpublished here after the conclusion
of my original hp account...I guess at some point
the more things change the more they stay the same?

Its hard to believe it went from : "come September ... when the leaves come falling down"   http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1759619/come-september-when-the-leaves-come-falling-down/   to "cleansing rain" in such a few golden autumn days...
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