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Aa Harvey Apr 2018
The Poetess


I need a Poetess to steal my heart,
In the depths of the dark night air,
That carries her cries, near and far…
I see before me,
An angel of my forever heart.


Her words shall guide me towards her heart
And in the depths of the dark,
I shall let her take my huge heart.


For I have no need of it to live, when I am with her.
She keeps me alive, with her Heavenly words.
Words of trust and promises of faithfulness;
These are the charms of The Poetess.


For she could be trusted to speak from the soul.
I could once more stupidly believe her promises to never go.
So I write you a poem from the bottom of my soul;
You words are worth loving;
My Magnanimous Noun.


(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
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!

I PROMISE!

Find her here:

https://hellopoetry.com/u706104/

and here:

https://www.tiki-toki.com/timeline/entry/67/The-Life-of-Mary-Kearns/#vars!date=1949-01-18_07:34:51!
Sumera Khizar Feb 2018
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 2018
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.....
Jayantee Khare Jan 2018
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
Momma!
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
hami Oct 2017
Everytime that the lustrous moon's visage apply
as how the stars that glimmering divided in the sky
waiting to perceive a new chapter of tragical book,
that she always utter while descending her tears—
When she's sensing at the antiquated photographs,
titled by their names with date and sugary caption
especially those blessed-satisfactory representation.

She poisoned her mind that he's a gentle saviour
as how he grasps her hands when she fell before,
She reminiscence when he enunciate the word hello,
that gave color to her life but he just left her alone.
She severed her wrist to release her poorly feelings
and filled a pen with her blood that she use to write
her unheard emotions and questions into a paper;

Is it bad if I look to our immemorial representation?
Is it bad if I believe that you're a good-hearted person?
Is it bad if I verbalize your splendiferous sanction?
Is it bad if I cut my wrist to impoverish my emotion?
Is it bad if I wear happy mask to hide my impression?
Is it bad if I didn't fight our love for your satisfaction?
Is it bad if I still love you without any hesitation?
Is it bad if I want you to be yours without limitation?

She asked using literary art from her fragile heart—
as a glass that downward-sloping from the paradise,
Moving swiftly with air, think through being escaped
but directly goes to the pits and broke into pieces.
Sunlights reverberate his faded shades of love for her
make her to reckon his spoken metaphors anywhere,
that slowly killing her willingness to symphathize life,
due of his falsity phrases that stabbed her as a knife.
9th poem! Hope you'll like it :>
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