A poets life the words fall out,
The words wax lyrical from the poets tongue.
Words form in the mind and flow onto the page,
Like wave after wave the words do flow.
A poet writes all forms of poetry from haiku, ode,
To free verse, it allows the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings,
To form into words.
A poet makes the words on the page come to life!,
Gives them a soul gives them color!.
The poet writes as best they can they're only human,
Try and love the words they write.

Written 17th July 2014.

Can love suffice,
my breaking ice, heart.
Sometimes so bright,
others whisper of my light,
without presence of a cloud,
facade premises allowed,
darkness innate,
tis sins fate,
to worry and strife with only pre-assumed might,
lovers fight.

Can seasons conceal,
realistic reals?
fading blossom and bloom,
twelve full moons.
Leaves rustle and brown,
people age and clown,
we live, we hope,
for a way around the moat,
to gain castles entry,
in this new century,
to proceed without fear,
behind technological austere,
expression both grave,
and brave, crave, gave, grave, slave..

why do we revolve,
around loves sweet resolve?

If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.

Window Sill Weepings

Draped as a curtain of silk disbelief
Tied back emotions lie still on the wall
Blocking the sunlight to pause in relief
Collections of dust form in spite of it all

Streaks hold the fingerprints bound of the day
Smeared in designs of a weakened refrain
Window sill weepings with nothing to say
Magnified teardrops add depth to the pain

Transparent wishes once hidden from view
Wait in the darkness this side of the dawn
Boarded up portals now moistened of dew
Nothing to see ever since you are gone