Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
MKemal Dec 2018
Remember the day you received the most beautiful gift of your life
It was not surely a book nor a tie
You met the silence of heavy love
You couldn't touch it without a glove

You ran after it as it would farewell any moment
But it didn't part from you against your bitter comment
There's a trouble with the heat of your heart
The solution is not very easy nor too smart
Just remember the day you received the most beautiful gift of your life.
Steve Page Dec 2018
you can't go far wrong with chutney.
a large pickle jar,
gold topped
with a seasonal trim around the rim,
made with patience and love.
- just add a strong grip
with stronger cheese
and a selection of savoury crackers
- and there you have Christmas.
A gift from friends.
Euphie Dec 2018
Sundays are meant for writing
about our soulmates.
So endow my affection that is gifted
with great patience and tender
loving kisses.

For our love tastes like a ripened pomegranate,
for our fruity fingertips.

Blessed by a sea apart,
all I could see and breathe is you.
Mary Frances Dec 2018
I look at myself everyday
in the mirror and then realize
I've been given the most beautiful gift
I could ever ask for - my existence;
my chance of life;
my chance of love.
AuEcologica Dec 2018
You’d ask what life’s greatest gift is
You’d ask what the most precious kiss is

When moonlight dances upon your skin;
when an empire chose you to win.
It is the fall of man as we know,
it is a cherry blossom petal storm.

You’d ask me what I see
You’d ask me to believe

I see stardust walking in the streets,
feet that dance for the weak.
Mother nature blesses your soul,
let this one the world's happiness hold.

It is written in stone, your name
It is a wonder, tip to toe, your name

It is written in stone, your name
It is a wonder, tip to toe, your name

It is a ballad, a musical soaring to the sun.

What do I see, what do I see?
Magic, standing before me,
it is in your blood, your bones.

What do I see, what do I see?
Magic coursing through me,
it is in your blood, your bones.

Grow as old as ancient trees,
be as weary as tales of old—
would my paradise be less? No.

Roar your battle cry against all gods,
be the devil itself—
would my ecstasy be less? No.

It is written in stone, your name
It is a wonder, tip to toe, your name

It is written in stone, your name
It is a wonder, tip to toe, your name

It is a ballad, a musical soaring to the sun.

You are the most priceless war, a cruel love
You are the demon in us all, a cruel love

I’d want nothing less; I’d expect nothing less.

Your name, your name
Your name, your name
Next page