Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Half moon hanging low.
No one gets elated now.
Waiting for full glow.
Your heart,
Beats with mine.
We intertwine,
Creating a tie.

One becomes two.
Bound to the heart,

Chosen for you.
To be a poet
Is not to burn the paper with your words
but to be heard
when drifting smoke of love and life is gone
the poet in us carries on
when ink and page and pen are embers
it is the beauty one remembers
Closing his eyes
one last time
a man can finally see

Opening his heart
time undone
feelings Joie de Vivre

Moving beyond
future and past
returning to the source

Hearing that voice
bathed in the Light
—  love his Tour de Force


(The 1st Book  Of Prayers: February, 2024)
40 miles north of the Arctic Circle
under a 'special regime'
in other words, 'Tortured to death'.
Dream the dreams of dreamers
Where the sun sets in different ways.
Many gateways we have
to
go through
To be where we’re supposed
to stay.

Holy gateway to the heavens
Where
Cherry blossom trees
blossom by the sea.
Close your eyes
and see.
Find your gateway in
your dream.




Shell ✨🐚
So many gateways in life, love and dreams,
Next page