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Aurora Maciel Oct 2015
For darling, I love you
To you, my heart I confide
For only you, my evening hue
Oh, let your young soul decide,
My sweet morning dew,
Will you be my bride?
Hmm... this is one of the more... old English (?)... poems of mine. In case you were wondering, this poem is dedicated to Bryana; an amazing woman whom I deeply care for (yes, I identify as gay for those who were confused by the fact that my name is Ellie).
Ronald J Chapman Oct 2015
Four decades past,
God took my one and only wife,
Back home,

The only woman I will ever love,
Forty years of memories,
That could have been,

Memories that never were made,
Children never born,
Scorned God for many years,

Until that day,
Heaven's door opened to me,
On that August day,

When I saw my bride in front of me,
Telling me to look far to the East
You will see Angels' Sarah and Tiffany,
That will guide you to an Angel named Evelyne,

Listen to your Angels,
Never give up,
You are needed on Earth,

Your future is far to the East,
To a beautiful place,
An amazing place of beauty, music and respect,
A place you will love,

On your way back to Heaven and me.

Copyright © 2015 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Angel- Casting Crowns with Lyrics
https://youtu.be/lTnZVwPFyC0
Gaye Oct 2015
Grandma, sing a lullaby
The fine tune you made for me

I want all the fireflies, the
Glass bottle and light an entire night

Where are my milkweeds
Aeroplanes, milk and honey?

I stood with my umbrella
And the wind took it with her

For the tempest outside my land
And no news returned

There’s my Grandma, her voice
That ooze out of my walls

You’re the bride, the picture
The house and a forgotten lullaby

Grandma, sing a lullaby
The fine tune you made for me
Abigail Shaw Sep 2015
When I was dead,
My hands were cold,
Cold as the love of a *****,
And I tried to clean them but grave dirt sticks under
fingernails,
When I was dead,
I was as lonely as unrequited romance,
Still harbouring pain from the day that I died,
Heavy on my chest like a passenger’s weight on a ship,
But it was only six feet of dirt.

When I was dead,
I was like Snow White,
...Corpse Blue,
Both of us awakened by someone who never lost faith,
Never gave up hope,
Or stopped believing,
That they would be the one to breathe air back into our stagnant lungs,
And now I’m a puppet no longer.

When I was dead,
The damage was done,
Four years in the dark turned words to ash in my mouth,
I longed to touch you but my fingers succumbed to decay,
And I was afraid my kisses would leave maggots in you mouth,
So I leave a funeral procession between us,
But your presence still makes colour crawl back into my skin.

When I was dead,
There was nothing left to take,
Now, I have everything to give,
Because of you,
We will be robbers,
Stealing the night,
Stealing the time,
We have left,
Before valleys form,
Chasms stretch between us,
Yawning open like a warrior’s wounds,
Time,
Waits for no one,
Each grain of sand reminds me why we fall hard and fast,
And my new heartbeat made me fall harder and faster,
Than the tumble that killed me

When I was dead,
Things were simple,
I was a lost cause,
Dead as chivalry,
And despite the fact I would love to kick down my tombstone,
Erase my burial site,
And live this lie for us,
Eventually, everyone will leave,
Even though they promised to visit everyday,
I know,
Because I’ve been dead before

But when you are dead,
And the nails in your coffin spell the names of those who hurt you,
Forsaken, like your soul,
You will curse the ones who left you to fester,
But I will sacrifice the blue of my veins,
The very blue you donated from your eyes,
I will pry out those nails,
Knock loudly so that death cannot separate us no more than life could,
And together, we will Rest In Peace.
Ronald J Chapman Jul 2015
I worried all my dreams had ended,
Unable to sleep and dream for a long time,

Looking out the window,
At the Eastern sky,
And see the sunrise,

Trying to imagine life,
In ancient times and places,
Life was hard and unbearable at times,

Smiling I see the green hills from the past,
I see a vast ocean and hear sounds of ocean waves and seagulls,
Flying by fast,

Looking out the window,
At the Eastern sky,
And see the sunrise,

Trying to imagine,
My wife dressed in white, laughing,
You are standing in the Ocean's waves,

Waving, come swimming with me,

You bring a smile to my soul,
I chase after you,
I long to hold you in my arms once more,

For hope and love, I pray for more dreams,

I believe, my dream! You will come true,

You make me stronger!


Copyright © 2015 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved
unconventional bride Ocean
https://youtu.be/Zf-poxn2gDE
My emotions are a ball and chain
A weapon of longing and pain
as i'm held hostage by righteousness and pride
as i'm longing for my long lost bride
the world around me sheds its shell
and i'm stuck here, in my lonely hell
found this in one of poem journals, the pages were stuck together xD
I hear its song in the wind.
Its mournful rhythm swaying through the leaves.
It's calling me to see its glory, its splendour.
Its calling me to sleep, a leafy lullaby.
Its rustle reminds me of a long hooped dress,
rustling across the ground. Running. Laughing. Hiding. Lost.
I am the wearer of the dress.
Silken leaves shimmy to a bride's first dance.
I am Meinir that runaway bride, lost inside the tree.
My bones will not be found inside the lightning  shattered tree, my soul is in the voice of the Talking Tree.
Copyright © JLB
06/05/2015
15:10 BST

http://www.nantgwrtheyrn.org/about-nant/history/folktales/rhysameinir
When the fifth nib broke,
I knew what she meant to me,
Realization, seeped in like a season new,
For I knew how it was meant to be.

Her eyes,
Empty, like uninhabited shores
Her tears,
Silent, like unopened doors
Her lips,
Dying, like the spirit of a centurion’s corpse
Needed, only her dreams,
Set afree,
Like an unsaddled horse.

But who would ride
A  painted shadow,
A prisoner of pride,
For that’s how I mocked ,
My handcuffed bride;
And now watch me preach ,
Of Gods and Guilt;
To the bride who shook ,
The world I built .


When the fifth nib broke,
I knew what she meant to me ,
But when her fifth nib breaks ,
Will she ?
Javaria Waseem Jan 2015
The caterpillar has just blossomed out of the cocoon
There's a whole world for it to explore, if you let it fly
She's just the same, fluttering her wings for the flight
Don't cut them off; she's s child not bride.

Too young to understand what's happening to her
She can see all her dreams crashing down in front of her eyes.
Let her play with dolls not kids of her own
Don't ****** away her childhood; she's a child not bride.

She's too scared to even speak up for herself.
As you're putting up her piggy bank of wishes up for a price
A flew jingling coins for you is the clanking of the chains for her.
Don't sell her off like this; she's a child not bride.

She just wants to escape from the nightmare but sadly
The mason jar is too hard to break down for the little butterfly.
She weeps now to turn back into the caterpillar she once was
for she just wants to be a child not bride.
She's a child, let her be one. You're the adult, act like one.
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