Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The first poem hid in a far away place
Choosing not to be found
Echoing
Distant yet sound
Whispering a story of love unbound

Our very first hug
So buoyant and honest
The moment I knew our love was true

I feel the warmth of your breath beside my ear
Knowing within my soul that you'll always be near

Soft words floating through the air
Conveying what's yet to be

Smooth hands against my cheek
Your soothing caress speaks volumes
It speaks of tenderness and unconditional love

Adoration is what I see
As you look at me
Your deep blue eyes meet mine
Dazzling
Radiant
Telling me things that I'd never thought true
Revealing who I am to you.

The hum of the rhymes
carry on
Continuing the tale of our love

A song is played
Our first dance begins
Slowly swaying
Holding me close
Entwined
In the kitchen
My new favorite place
You embrace not just my body
but my soul

An unfinished story of everlasting love
Only growing stronger as we travel through time

Each moment
Each day
A new memory brings

Beauty and adventure
Connection and hope

In your arms
I've found my home.
Near  A River That Runs Deep

There's A Place With No Streets

Where I Love To BE On my Own

And Greet The Silence Of Being HOME...

In the Silence & Debra Lea Ryan
1st Verse
G6-EM/A -EM
26.04.2025
In Song @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fh1Yv1IK0D8 < Feeling a little Meditative.
My third home is so unmoved.  It stays as recalled
smelling of the comfort of the first and last
as if to harbour memories regardless
of age, refusing to release its hold,
it stands so full of heart, with echoes of dinner

with steam lifting from hefts of potatoes
and withered veg, an adamant replay
of checkered tablecloths and brown orange tableware,
long cracked and stacked. You see how it was
close your eyes and hear the scrapes of plates, the kettle.  
And that veined mug.
After ‘A home is so sad’ by Philip Larkin (The Whitsun Weddings)
Chloe 5d
Abrupt decline
No pilot driving
Chutes opening
An empty vessel
But your hands are steady
And I feel myself landing

Hardened by times
of neglect,
assault
Years of hostility
I fought
But in your contagious serenity
I feel myself softening

I shouldn’t be here
I am reminded all the time
Constant memories
of it is all my fault
Is it all my fault?
All the gates are closed
But I see your arms opening
And I feel at home
Mariah Apr 18
When we all see
That when they said
It takes a village
It was meant
Literally
K E Cummins Apr 16
Another day ended
with mountain dust and ice melt in my boots,
dirt on my hands, blood on my knuckles,
fresh air and sage smoke in my lungs.  

Sage smoked and threw tobacco on
the sacred fire today.
I miss you guys -
sending good thoughts your way.
Life's great up north,
growing stronger every day,
wishing you all the strength you need.
TRUE NORTH STRONG AND FREE, ****** EH!
Next page