Love Is A Disease,
And I Am Bound
To Illness

sings a bird in the open
sings too a caged bird

one to forget the pain
the other to make its freedom heard.

Yavanna Kementari
The giver of fruits
The mother of trees
The mother of roots

Creator of Laurelin
and Telperions light
The light of the trees
Put an end to the night

She created the moon
She created the sun
With a flower, a fruit
And with light it was done

She is our lady, tall and green
She is our mother
Our beautiful queen

secrets are only fun
when shared with someone

~~~=<♡>=~~~

In the morning of a
Breezey mauve-pink air
in the peace in a time of silent prayer
in the breath of a
newborn child's sleep
there are memories
we will always keep

when a mother first holds her child
in the strength of a mustang
running wild
in the hush of an ocean's
silent depths
there are memories
We will never forget

eagles fly
and soar on lofty wings
infants cry when their
time of life begins
seedlings grow
from the fall of gentle rains
these are things we know
but can we fully explain?

in the rise of a harvest moon
in the scent of a rose
in fullest bloom
in the grace of a
dancer's swirling form
then our senses make us
glad we're born

in the flames of the setting sun
in softness of night that's
just begun
in the lights of the pinpricked sky
there are times we pause
to think and ponder why?

breezes blow
and yet are never seen
there's a mind
that can only think a dream
can you touch the light
of falling stars
these are things we know
but can we prove they are?

in the roar of a breaking wave
we are kept from the
cradle to the grave
we may know
in our last and final hour
a loving and

ALMIGHTY POWER


soulsurvivor
4/21/2009


~~~=<♡>=~~~

It took me four days
to write one less-than-mediocre poem about him.

It takes me a minute
to think of a thousand poems
about
**you