“the beauty of a woman is in the adventures she's taken, the lives she's touched and all the minds she's awakened.
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the beauty of a woman is in the caring she gives, the sincerity in her laughter, and the passion in her griefs.

even in the loneliest moments,
i have been there for my self

This is a tale of long ago
I was a small boy new to this
Tedious life that is a show
The only thing inside was bliss,
Oh, Mistress, I held that pencil with a fist

I took those thoughts that run away
pulled them into the real world
I imagined a chicken named earl
In recess, I jotted notes on a pad with a twirl
for an assignment, my thoughts couldn't stay

It poured out my hand like neverland
my hand as stable as Afghanistan
The chicken had a mind of his own
and Earl made that page his home

I knew from that day on
Writer was a part of my identity's lexicon

Sun burns me
Not the moon

Did you get it?

If skeptic
How can one be
So decent
So blissful

Look at her, closer

Her way
Her moves
Answers the all

She is
A work of precious art
Who breathe
Who  inspires

You don’t need to be a writer
You don’t need to be a poet
Whoever you are

She has something
Alluring, magical charm
What makes you
Something to say

She is the dream
And the reality
That, She is

My mind, madness
Overpowered by rhyme,
But no reason
Just emotions embedded
Beneath my surface
Exuding words
Written, not spoken
Dreaming in syllables
Replaying rhythm
Piecing poetry together
From what most keep hidden

© JL Smith

And if your patience grows short
Remember
How winter's snow
Awaits fall's last leaf
How the blackbird's song
Serenades only after our sleep
And every flower blossoms
In its own time
Sometimes,
When you least expect it
Love arrives

© JL Smith