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Rj Sep 2014
Nothing in this world compares to the feeling
Of gliding through a Rocky Mountain snowy forest
Powder gliding under the skis, silently
And feeling like you're, for once, at peace
Sarah Jones Dec 2014
I am a yellow rose.
Good for nothing but friendship.
You hold me in your hand.
As you walk across the garden.
Red roses are tradition,
Lovely unlike the rest.
If not for their thorns,
Surely they’d be your favorite.
Orange roses shine in the sun.
More delicate than I.
They accept your every loving ‘brace.
I stare as you hold them.
I’ll never make you smile,
Not when they shine.
Yet Night and Day,
I’m told my love is requited.
Chiibe-The-Rebel Oct 2015
I lay in my bed and think about you
I love you so much I don't know what to do
I feel your warmth at my side
The pain in my heart moves to my eyes
So far away yet always so near
You are the reason I am still here.

I await the times when we can talk
I await the times we can finally hold hands and walk
To feel you for real... so close to me
The happiest person in the world is what you would make me.

Your eyes shine like a million suns
You shine more brightly than anyone
Your smile so sweet can't help but make me smile
It stops my world even for a little while
I await the time when my hand is in yours
To hear you say those 3 little words.

There are still no words I can say to describe
My heart it aches and my eyes they cry
But when we talk my heart flies
you always wipe away the tears I cry.

Even though you aren't here
And I miss you so much my dear
I'll love you forever and ever
I'll always love you my far away lover.
My Long distance boyfriend wrote this for me... Love him! <3
I was the Crown Prince,
Prince Khurram was my name,
Of Emperor Jahangir I was the son,
Shāhjahān was the royal title I took,
Shihāb al-Din Muḥammad Khurram
Was my formal name.
It was I who got the Taj Mahal built.

You criticize it as wastage,
As an old man's obsession,
An egotistical marble effigy,
A mark of wasted resources,
And a psycho's rare ambition,
You may detest it's purpose...

But I built it out of sheer love...

Love for power,
Love for wealth,
Love for health,
Love for ruling,
Love for display,
Love for strategy,
Love for history.

I want to be remembered.

Just as I want my poetry in marble,
Pure white poetry to withstand,
In the tests of time to prove me true.

Forever, you'll remember me.

And my crazy love for my Mumtaz.
My HP Poem #994
©Atul Kaushal
patty m Nov 2017
Sharp evening birds shadow the sun
setting across the water;
in dreams the ocean
comes to full river.
Many times we've climbed this bridge
weeds changing the color of the water,
stirring glints of conversation
the uplift in the veins
beating a flight to autumn.

I hear your string of broken bird call
raucous and wild
as years turn it to echo;
Startling paleness
a reverie of winter's chill
how boneless is bird flight.
the solace of wings.
                    
Now there is only one
                                      where once there were two.  

          clipped wings
          the imprint of fossils
          the rain's guilty tones
          smearing the dirt

Planks wobble,
                            set as they were.
                                                    haphazard, uneven

Now there's a blur of impressions
                                  the nonsensical strings in a litany of sound
                                                           ­                                 
Today,
. . . reflecting on  you,
I walk this bridge alone, touching air no one else can see,
                 one step at a time,
                                           learning to be ME.
I

O fairest flower no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken Primrose fading timelesslie,
Summers chief honour if thou hadst outlasted
Bleak winters force that made thy blossome drie;
For he being amorous on that lovely die
That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss
But kill’d alas, and then bewayl’d his fatal bliss.

II

For since grim Aquilo his charioter
By boistrous rape th’ Athenian damsel got,
He thought it toucht his Deitie full neer,
If likewise he some fair one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away th’ infamous blot,
Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld,
Which ‘mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach was held.

III

So mounting up in ycie-pearled carr,
Through middle empire of the freezing aire
He wanderd long, till thee he spy’d from farr,
There ended was his quest, there ceast his care
Down he descended from his Snow-soft chaire,
But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace
Unhous’d thy Virgin Soul from her fair hiding place.

IV

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For so Apollo, with unweeting hand
Whilome did slay his dearly-loved mate
Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas’ strand,
Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;
But then transform’d him to a purple flower
Alack that so to change thee winter had no power.

V

Yet can I not perswade me thou art dead
Or that thy coarse corrupts in earths dark wombe,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormie bed,
Hid from the world in a low delved tombe;
Could Heav’n for pittie thee so strictly doom?
O no! for something in thy face did shine
Above mortalitie that shew’d thou wast divine.

VI

Resolve me then oh Soul most surely blest
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear)
Tell me bright Spirit where e’re thou hoverest
Whether above that high first-moving Spheare
Or in the Elisian fields (if such there were.)
Oh say me true if thou wert mortal wight
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight.

VII

Wert thou some Starr which from the ruin’d roofe
Of shak’t Olympus by mischance didst fall;
Which carefull Jove in natures true behoofe
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?
Or did of late earths Sonnes besiege the wall
Of sheenie Heav’n, and thou some goddess fled
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar’d head

VIII

Or wert thou that just Maid who once before
Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth
And cam’st again to visit us once more?
Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth!
Or that crown’d Matron sage white-robed Truth?
Or any other of that heav’nly brood
Let down in clowdie throne to do the world some good.

IX

Or wert thou of the golden-winged boast,
Who having clad thy self in humane weed,
To earth from thy praefixed seat didst poast,
And after short abode flie back with speed,
As if to shew what creatures Heav’n doth breed,
Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire
To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav’n aspire.

X

But oh why didst thou not stay here below
To bless us with thy heav’n-lov’d innocence,
To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe
To turn Swift-rushing black perdition hence,
Or drive away the slaughtering  pestilence,
To stand ‘twixt us and our deserved smart
But thou canst best perform that office where thou art.

XI

Then thou the mother of so sweet a child
Her false imagin’d loss cease to lament,
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,
And render him with patience what he lent;
This if thou do he will an off-spring give,
That till the worlds last-end shall make thy name to live.
202

My Eye is fuller than my vase—
Her Cargo—is of Dew—
And still—my Heart—my Eye outweighs—
East India—for you!
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