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solfang Dec 2017
I wish not,
to write anything,
about love that is
metaphorically
related to Christmas.

how can we forget
that Christmas is
the day where we
rejoice for the Son
and not for the
Sun of your life.

how can we forget
that Christmas is
about giving
your heart to God,
and not giving it
to someone who
might break it.

Alright,
let's get real.

Christmas,
there's nothing
greater than celebrating
the one and only Him,
with words and verses,
written for no one,
but Him.
Jokes aside, Merry Christmas - religious or not! Let's all remember the true meaning of Christmas. :)
Celebration of Life
I don' wanna live my life...
I wanna lead it...
so that It must wonder
What I'm gonna give it...

Then I came to know,
What the life is...
Life's a celebration...
Or Celebration of life,
IN THE NAME OF THE BEST WITHIN US
Pagan Paul Oct 2017
.
Come! Come! One and all,
come to my woodland hall,
attend ye all mid-winters ball,
in friendship harken to my call.

Paths awash with candle light,
in the branches burning bright,
such an enchanting magical sight,
to guide you gentle through the night.

Friends with whom to drink and eat,
cuddled warm in a sylvan heat,
while dancers fling to keep the beat,
songs are sung, lovers meet.

And by a fire in a little glade,
words are spoken, promises made,
the Bonding tree with hearts displayed,
brings memories that will never fade.

.

And when the party is at an end
I'll lovingly embrace my dearest friend,
and quieter than what lies beneath,
whisper sweet poetry to my Lady Leaf.



© Pagan Paul (04/10/17)
.
Poem 6, Series 2 of my Lord of Green collection.
.
Debanjana Saha Sep 2017
A celebration ends
*And we celebrate it
with laughter,
joy, and a bit of sadness
but only with the hope
in our eyes
that the rejoicing moments
would come back again
and fill us with all happy moments
all over again.
A celebration begins giving us all happy moments with family and rituals of goodness. But as it end, we celebrate it again in the hopes that it will come back to us once again.
Richard Grahn Sep 2017
I was used to you.
Each day was new.
Each time we played,
We played a different game.

Drifting through
The murky haze,
We’d think it through
And then we’d do.

I’m lost without your pleasant gaze.
Traveling down the roads we paved.
My soul was yours, the one you saved.
Our dreams they lived from day to day.

One day you left, it’s hard to say.
The bus came by and wrecked our day.
I miss you more as time goes by.
I often stop to wonder why.

That lasting kiss you left me with
Is all I taste, it’s all I feel.
The harmony you brought to me,
It filled the well inside my dreams.

My dearest one, I still see you,
Laughing, happy, loving me.
My heart is torn beyond compare.
These shoes are worn but I still care.

I can’t forget the plans we made.
Each day I live to honor thee.
The raging sea can’t quell our dreams.
The love we shared still sets me free.
For Jen. My love for you will never die.
G Rog Rogers Sep 2017
-Lyrix (BluJazz)

Dial the number
and I'm hesitating
Hope she's gone
as it starts to ringing
"Oh, it's you I thought
you had left me"
No I didn't want to
leave you far behind

C'mon C'mon you say
love me but just
for a moment
C'mon C'mon you say
love me then
leave me alone

Lady C'mon
Lady think back

Lady think back
to where we were
Lady think back
Lady C'mon
Lady think back
on our love

Overall it was
a celebration
though we had
our share of pain
Now I'm gone
and you say you
feel different
Don't you know
that I'm still the same

Walk away 'cause
I know that it's over
Walking on 'cause
I know she's gone
Thinking back on all
the times we
spent together
Thinking I'll be
walking on alone

C'mon C'mon
you say love me
but just for a moment
C'mon C'mon
you say love me
then leave me alone

Lady C'mon
Lady think back

Lady think back
on our love

-R.

(80)
-LA
©2017
Brent Kincaid Aug 2017
When I’m up in the night
Because I have to ***
I say to myself wryly,
“This is longevity.”
I remind myself then
This is the way things are
When a person my age
Manages to get this far.

I repeat to myself then
How stupid I was as a kid
And make an inventory
Of the dumb stuff I did.
And how I didn’t see
How lucky I had been
To have so much energy
And ambition back then.

I remember weekends
Where I played until three
And woke up very early
Ready for the day happily.
I remind myself of freedom
From aching backs and knees,
And for decades on end,
Doing whatever I pleased.

I remember, and that alone,
Is a victory for my years
Because my memory works well;
Not so much my aging ears.
And glasses must be found
To get from here to the bed.
By now I am celebrating
That I am here, and not dead.
vanzilla Aug 2017
Why do we think of it,
as a crippling fear or a menacing disease?
or a horrid spectral who haunts you weak.

No. A depression is a disguised celebration,

When in dark, it's a gift of light offered to those
who are only the bravest and mightiest
to those who are ready to embrace life,
to those whose eyes are smeared with blood.

They have seen the real face of beauty, of truth, and growth.
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