Let those who will of friendship sing,
And to its guerdon grateful be,
But I a lyric garland bring
To crown thee, O, mine enemy!

Thanks, endless thanks, to thee I owe
For that my lifelong journey through
Thine honest hate has done for me
What love perchance had failed to do.

I had not scaled such weary heights
But that I held thy scorn in fear,
And never keenest lure might match
The subtle goading of thy sneer.

Thine anger struck from me a fire
That purged all dull content away,
Our mortal strife to me has been
Unflagging spur from day to day.

And thus, while all the world may laud
The gifts of love and loyalty,
I lay my meed of gratitude
Before thy feet, mine enemy!

I'm trying to tell you something
I don't know how
But there is water in the desert
There are cities full of ilife
And stop signs and green lights
I don't know how
Still amidst the sand storms
I'm trying to tell you something

I'm trying to show you something
I don't know how
Because words are only sound
Even if they come as music
A symphony of movement
And every action is
I don't know how
Who I really am
I'm trying to show you something

Well it's a history of changes
Still it's our history of changes
So maybe tomorrow
We will Change for the better

Thank you, my friend;
         for reaching out
into the night
for seeing me through
into morning's light
         a little flash
of my phone light
Thank you, friend
      for letting me know I am seen
for letting me know
       how much I mean
for communicating,
    across the wires
how much I'm dear,
         that I'm desired
This means more sometimes,
       than one could ever know
especially when your very bed
has become an ice floe
especially when the one
who is supposed to warm you
embrace who you are
and enjoy, not ignore you
who is supposed to ignite you
with kisses
keep your body hot  
is next to you, but really not
I can extend my hand
and hope to tease
Instead draw it back,
      shocked by the freeze
For the sheets have become icy
arctic winds howl
my cat could be a seal
or polar bear on the prowl
the breath from your snore
rises up as steam
for it is so **** cold
in this iced-over scene
I'm so sick and tired
of this gelid room
So weary of my heart
being pierced by harpoons
I have tried to work my magic
apply balms to the scars
to prevent the ceiling
from growing icicle shards
And my bedroom is shaken
like some chaotic snow globe
moved by invisible hands
that search and probe
for now I am an ice princess warrior
with my map unfurled
researching ways to flee this frozen world
The kayak is ready
as I set my sights
        on warmer tundras
as I weave my lightening
and spread
          my thunder

I throw a stone
and watch the ripples flow

Like our love
on the ebbing tide

it slowly drifts away

But I remember
why I love you

And our love returns
On the flowing tide

And lasts another day

*You throw a stone
And watch the ripples flow?

By this time next year
I wonder where I will be
This page shows my identity
The wrongs and rights done to me
What I'm feeling is evident in all my readings
So what will my hello poetry say
This time next year
I hope it's happy
I hope my poems read with an element of sanity
But who knows
Maybe I won't be alive to write anything
I honestly wonder where I will be
This time next year

When there is no way except to part
And the memories make you cry
You think that someday they will fade
But does true love ever die?

Does it die in shame or in regret?
Does it bleed and does it ache?
Do you cry yourself to sleep at night
And also when you wake?

We strangle love with tender grasp
But we do not realize
That it breathes no more, until too late
But does true love ever die?

We go through memories like a book
The things that we will miss
The way you used to hold my hand
The way we used to kiss

The times when life was with no bounds
When moments whispered by
They say that all must come to end
But does true love ever die?

Does true love ever beg to live?
Do we **** it to be free?
Why do we try to **** the thing
We do not wish to see?

When questions drown your answers out
And you stand there asking 'why?'
One question that will haunt you is:
Does true love ever die?

It seems unreal, a fading dream
How could it ever end?
A thing so grand; so beautiful
To its grave, untimely sent

But what does end: The love or us?
For in its grave is where we lie
We are the thing we wish to ****
So can love truly die?

It floats among immortal stars
So far we cannot see
And spreads across the sky, released
We breathe it, you and me

So when memories come bleeding out
And make you weep and cry
Just look up at the stars and know:
True love can never die