Jeff Gaines Mar 9
There is this gal across the pond …
in and from
a different time than me.

Her words, her spirit
have lifted me up
and given me much to see.

Her views of life
lived and perceived
hold so many things of value.

I hope you read them
sooner than later.
Make a promise, shall you?

From notions and memories
and a precious little girl ...
You will love journeying her magic realm.

Board her ship
and enjoy the sights
resting assured with her at the helm.

Relish in her life
as I have on this moment.
Relish in her words and hold them dear.

Finding a soul such as this
may happen only once
and it makes it all worth being here.

I adore you, sweet Mary.
You've made my life much brighter
and my outlook outshines even this.

I hope on your journey,
all your journey's
you never, ever find
anything but well-deserved bliss.

Godspeed Mary Gay Kearns!
I'm not sure, as I already don't remember, who found whom. It doesn't matter. I have discovered a TREASURE here at HP. And if YOU don't ... you will have missed something GREAT in your life!


Find her here:

and here:!date=1949-01-18_07:34:51!
They told us she didn't exist
in this day and age
everyone and everything
a turning of the page

They told us not too look
we wouldn't find her here
in the words or the actions
no pinnacle, no peer

They told us it wasn't her
yet upon the battlefield we knew
amongst the pain and sorrow
a Warrior Poetess, true
For all the assembled words
all the emotions, all the pain, suffering, and love

they still exist. :) modern day Joan of Arc's
Sumera Khizar Feb 13
My heart, fly higher without fear of falling
Let your dreams to be higher than the skies
Learn the art of accepting love with open arms
Open your heart and let light enter inside
Oh my heart, scream when you'll find love.

My heart, even after fall I remember being with you in heaven
My dreams are too high for me to reach
I've learned the art of accepting pain in the name of love
I closed my eyes so the light will not blind me once again
Oh my heart, stay silent and hide away all my pain...
Sakhi Jan 27
She was a girl so tough,
Soft inside but showed to be rough,
Out came her vulnerable side,
Just during the tranquil nights.

Known as the girl who plays basketball,
But when alone, the poet inside her calls.
She must avoid the dove,
To not fall in love.

But every story has a prince charming,
Sometimes serving as a warning.
And there came one for her,
Who made her lose all her nerve.

He treated her like a princess,
But had his benefit in that.
His princesses were many,
The girl didn't know any.

Found out he cheated,
Though her heart bled,
She got up and took her pen,
And now the boy is a mere fan.....
katelynn beth Jan 26
her face
was her canvas
she painted it daily
in bright, vivid colors.
to one day hope of
convincing her
katelynn beth Jan 25
most vividly i remember my mother screaming. not the kind from when she holds her hand against the straightener too long or someone spooks her. no no honey it was the kind you can feel in your bones. deep inside the bone marrow cells the scream vibrates off every cell wall. yes. most vividly i remember my mother screaming.
Lost in the city
United by poetry

Online friends
Things which trends

Few find their soulmate
Others find a friend great

Here found one with like mind
Maybe past lives were entwined

Great to have a tea with her
Heartfelt talks heartful together

A grand date with a poetic soul
Who is assigned the divine role

We will catch up again surely
Another meet to be planned shortly!
Met Sarita Aditya Verma today....thnx hp for letting us find each other......
Smriti Ranabhat Nov 2017
I am your poem.

From that mountain hole
Too many pains left
And from the island of the vexation
A little pleasure on the journey twinkle They made  a missiles
I was fabricated just below your heart
And I am the part of it

Just by planting a tree farm
Trouble dirts your hands
I was penned from composition of roughness
And I am the stanzza of it

Thunder thrown out of your eyes
They are more expensive than pearls
Drinking  nano water
I was  masterminded
And I am the Masterpiece of it

The debt too scared by itself
Searching for fertilizer tissue
Selling the blood of your own
I was painted from the words of penalty
And I am the same book of it

Momma ! I'm not a poetess
I am your poetry ....
I am the product of plenty of sufferings ,and vexation that momma suffers
I am her words falling and rolling in the real life   ,pattern of her language
And I am her whole book
ST Rossa Oct 2017
My darling poetess's love
didnt past the test of time
Now our hearts no longer chime
to the same tune.
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