'Tis not always spelled in letters,
'Tis not always said in words,
'Tis not always sung in notes,
Loud enough to be heard.
'Tis not always writ in sands,
Nor frosted window panes,
'Nor engraved on precious stones,
Ornate jeweled chains.
'Tis not always spilled on paper,
Nor carved on barks of trees,
The language of love,
'Tis more than words can be.
It might ne'er be understood,
Or perhaps deftly read,
For much of what is love,  
May pass away unsaid.
But 'tis there in tenderness,
Longing wistful eyes,
A heart that lights up,
Every moment love comes by.
'Tis there in a gentle hold,
A shoulder kind enough,
Caring thoughts that sail you through,
Choppy seas, weathers rough.
'Tis coloring you a happy pink,
When the world grey's a blue,
Love is more than words can say,
Love is more than 'I love you'.

Don't judge me by my looks
And don't read me by the books
I am brash and I am kind
I am hard to define
I am bold. I am shy
I am grounded, but I fly
I love, and I give
I cradle, I forgive
Though soft I may feel
I am thunder, I am steel
I am smiles and I am laughter
I am happily ever after
I am tears and I am ache
I am a mess when I break
I hold tightly, but I know
When it's time to let go
I am dove, I am hawk
I am the rose and the rock
I am rain. I am sun
I am I. I am woman



Thank you all so much **

At the end of the day, I await the night
As it slowly sets in
With a prelude of colours.
It grows quieter and peaceful
Birds cease to sing
And fly home to rest their wings
On long limbed trees that weather time.
Noise ebbs, save for the throaty croak of frogs
Or the mating songs of cicadas.
The sky is lit with silver lamps
While the moon looks on
Smiling with cherubic cheeks
As the blanket of darkness
Tucks the world in
Ushering a world of dreams.

How well she grows - the perfect rose
A delicate bloom in pink
Little by little, her petals unfold
And blend in poetic ink.
Tall and stately; she is a regal bloom
She reigns and flaunts her style
How she charms prying eyes
And disarms with her scented smile
Though time will turn the tide one day
And she'll wilt, and cease to be
But long will she be remembered
And loved in poetry.

I stand on the shore, my feet sinking in the sands
My hair tousled wild in winds hustling hands
Covering my face, veiling my eyes
Distantly, I hear the seagulls, their yearning cries.
I grip firmer and hold myself tight
In dusk's diminishing, dwindling twilight.

I watch the waves lunge at me -
Overwhelming, menacingly.
But as they race to the shore, reaching my feet
They drench me, turn back and then recede.

I see another wave, I yearn to move a step behind
Fear and uncertainty fill my troubled mind.
But I still stand, stand my ground,
Unmindful of the sounds
Of the winds and the waves
In a trance, lost, nature's slave.

I nearly fall, my balance lost
Taken by surprise, by waves tossed
But I still stand, stand with unsteady feet
Where the land and waters meet.

I, on the seashore, a speck, besides a sea so vast -
I know that each wave will rest and it too shall pass.

There is nothing like, for a thirsty voice, water clear and sweet,
A loaf of bread for a hungry man and his misery would retreat.
There is nothing like, for tired eyes, a night of gentle sleep,
Nothing like, for a weary body, the comfort of slumber deep.
There is nothing more stirring than a new born's hushed cries,
And nothing more heart warming than a twinkle in tiny eyes.
There is nothing like, for a tearful child, his mothers warm hold,
Or the wisdom of generations through his father told.

There is nothing like, for an unsteady heart, the call of a friend,
No aching heart that a friends love can not heal or mend.
There is nothing like, for a bruised soul, the calm of gentle words,
The miracle of a kind voice in deep recesses heard.
There is nothing like, for a battered heart, the comfort of a smile,
The promise of a tomorrow, though it may take a while.
There is nothing like, for a broken spirit, the touch of a helping hand
Gestures never washed away... eternal footprints in the sand.

In the evening sky
he hung in celestial glory
I thought he came early

As the blue paled
he became brighter

Luminous, white and bold
I loved him dearly
I held him in my hands and heart
cupped his fullness
in my eyes

He moved with me
I watched captivated

I stood in his golden light
and beauty
soaking in silver slivers
into my soul from my skin

Now he lives in me
and I in him