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My hearts free falling for you
No ground in sight
In love and falling for miles
these happy feelings ticking all the boxes
In my mind I undoubtedly know it’s elated feelings is right

It's more than just your captivating smile
It’s your enchanting independent fight
Your sparked passion is relentless
Fueling wanting to be a better me
A desire you always unknowingly ignite

My love equivalent to flooded rivers
Their destinations the ocean of love in your heart
Your every kiss a breath of life I live for
Your silken touch seductively excites my skins thought

Emotions closely related to shivers
Excitedly freezing my mind
There is no Angel I would rather imprint on
We believe in past lives our souls were heavenly entwined

Yours is the smile that I live for
Your sweet taste embedded in my soul
I pledged my love to you for eternity
Even in the afterlife we promised to be betrothed
Even though you were stolen by death
Like a thief in the night
My heart I buried with you
Only for the reason
My heart will then forever know light
C Cavierre Jun 10
The man by the flowers
is giving with his tender care

The woman by the shelves
is giving with her dusty hands,

Him, by the trash bin,
gives with his inconspicuous hard work

Her, by the street, gives with the brightest smiles

Them, by the office, gives with their protective minds,

And father gives with his visionary love.

Mother gives with her fine-honed instinct

Sister gives with her passionate dreams,

Brother gives with his inspiring character

Nephew gives with his contagious laughter.

You and I, by our flowers, by our shelves, by our trash bin, by our street, by our office, with our care, with our hands, with our work, with our smile, with our minds, or our vision, or our instinct, or our love, or our dreams, or our character, or our laughter,

We give.
Forms Of Generosity
Madeleine Apr 29
Comes in many forms
From Harmless to dangerous
Sometimes even death
Sometimes late at night when can't sleep, I look upon night sky think to
my self what Is out
there far beyond that to which I can see with my eyes
There has to be something out there far beyond this planet we live, out there somewhere In the universe other life forms
are probably looking back at our planet and saying exactly the same there has to be another life form out there somewhere In this vast wilderness of
We can't be just the only life form In this vast expanse of space all these habitable planets
old forms will never go out of fashion
if poets keep scribing them onto the page
there's timelessness in their long staying stage
as seen by writers who hold a passion
tonight one reprises the sonnet's stock
bringing past master back for a re-run
so readers twill enjoy couplets of fun
e'en including some lines that shall rock
let not tradition fade on the paper
tis said things of age can be new again
yesteryears vogue showing its surviving
well into a modern era's draper
penning the craft of the lasting refrain
whereby we'll see them always reviving
Mary-Eliz Jun 2018
I often wonder if Robert Frost
in all his life ever got lost
did that road he took need corrections?
if so, as a man, did he ask directions?
Hadn't heard of this poem form (Clerihew) till recently. Had to give it a whirl. :-)
Danielle Jun 2018
I see you world...
Through my mirrored eye,
Those nuanced shapes of yours.
Animal forms in all.
Sheer frustration at the human race prompted this poem.
Hannah Christina May 2018
Anything can
look like a poem
and sound philosophical
simply by moving
the words on
different lines.

Am I doing it right?
Is this

I think I am trying.
Really, I am
I go back and change the order
and I break lines
where it sounds right
But it does not take me long.
Not at all.

I try to be
and call it natural rhythm.
Instinct and style taking over
I alternate between
agonizing every detail
like When to Capitalize
and publishing free form poems without looking over them twice.

How is writing supposed to feel?
Should I labor?
or should it flow?
Or do I get to decide?

I think the things I talk of
mean something
at least.

But am I just

fooling myself into thinking that
using common poetry formats
somehow makes my work worthwhile?
Problems only We True Artists face.
Mary-Eliz May 2018
All night long
Below a darkening sky
Comes a howling wind
Drowning other sounds
Each gust stronger than the one before
Finally the rain begins to pour
Growling thunder in between
Heaven's anger seeming
Insatiable as lightning,
Jagged, burns
Knifelike slashes in the sky
Lighting up the darkened
Midnight hour
No end in sight
Only a brief occasional silence
Passing through
Quickly come and gone
Throughout the night
Until morning is slightly
Visible over the horizon
Wind quietens, rain becomes a drizzle
X-it the tempest as the sun's
Yellow rays bring the morning to lavender
Zinnias and sky-blue Forget-me-nots
Not the ABC poem form as it showed on the site where I found it. Went a slightly different way.
"ABC - A poem that has five lines and creates a mood, picture, or feeling. Lines 1 through 4 are made up of words, phrases or clauses while the first word of each line is in alphabetical order. Line 5 is one sentence long and begins with any letter."
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