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I address this letter to you, in part
to speak of a new time in my life.
For a dashing beau has stolen my heart -
your youngest is set to become a wife!
His touch is cold as a December day,
but his heart’s warm as the high summer sun.
He doesn’t seem the type to go and stray,
just don’t expect grandbabes - he ain’t much fun!
He’s a striking gentleman, famous too,
and he pens the most beautiful of works!
So, with this, my life shall begin anew.
Hello city folk, goodbye Georgia berks!
If y’all plan to meet, you’re plum outta luck,
alas, my dear Edgar is dead as ****.

- t.h.
Luiz Sep 4
Your eyes of mica glitter and shine
hues of azure, like our God's given sky
in the next moment, you need to be mine
for this aching inside, I cannot define

you set in motion all my emotions
with ocean waves that swim away to me
and in the moon's tides my devotion
waits to be set free in your Bering Sea

so light the fire pit at Corner's Bay
to beck my port at your permanent door
flowers will bloom with our sun's rays one day
astray no more on the shores I adore

allow me to rhyme you to submission
and hear my plea for your decision

Eyes of Mica
The lady hath lost it, surrend'r'd it
a penalty f'r h'r mistakes
h'r failures and h'r faults

the lady hast given it up
at consid'rable sacrifice
h'r eag'r young passion
f'r a m're content'd life

the lady's hath lost 't, finally f'rfeit
despite h'r yearning desires f'r m're
f'r nay gain, nay profit of h'r owneth
just to the desire to endure
with the one the lady's with
without h'r risking of less
© LadyRavenhill 2018
Part of a collection titled: W'rds of a Nimble-Footed Mistress.
I am not afeard of the thing hath called death
       N'r yearn to testeth mine own m'rtality
I’ve nay feareth of the possibility
       N'r bethink of tom'rrow’s last breath
Graveyards holdeth nay myst'ry  
       Just a place of tranquil beauty and peace
I am not afeard of dying in the least
       And yon the part that scareth me
@LadyRavenhill 2018
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Part of a collection of Shakespearean inspired language poetry,  I am working on posting here called:
W'rds of a Nimble-Footed Mistress
Breon Jul 9
Your humble florets hug the rough-hewn stone,
Your yellow sunbursts shock against the gray,
All tangled up together, none alone
As, stem to stem, you ward the morn away
Reminding me of duties for the day:
To comfort those who suffer all alone,
To stand with those who struggle on their own,
To see an obstacle and find a way.
It's toil, travail, and trouble for no pay,
But look how far we've come and how we've grown -
A wallflower's a humble thing to be,
But tangled all together, they are strong.
The bonds we forge in striving, all as one,
Enduring tests? They will not be undone.
"Faithfulness through adversity."
Flower languages are lovely things. Perhaps I'll properly complete a cycle on some favorite flowers.
Breon Jun 26
I know a man who locks himself inside
His head, his conversations, tucked away
Behind a maze of cheer. Each day, he's lied
A thousand times. He clocks out for the day
And, free but weary, sheds the mask for sleep.
I start the day with coffee, bitter, black,
Which suits my mood just fine. I earn my keep,
then turn around and give until I lack.
The coffee doesn't last, and by the end
I've found myself a stronger, harder drink.
I watch him bottle workdays up, my friend,
And brew himself instead. I'd like to think
We both get by. That doesn't do much good.
This place devours us and drinks our blood.
Apologies to Talib Kweli and anyone who hates eye rhyme.
Chase Parrish Mar 23
Is poetry a way to cope with pain?
My chest throbs dully in low agony.
You see, heartache is a physical thing.
It hurts as if it's any wound to me.
I'm not afraid to state my malady,
Depression is what resides in my brain.

And it's the way it manifests, I hate
In doubting in myself, and what I'm worth
In old memories, losses, things of weight
Frustrations pop and boil as on a hearth
Sometimes I wish for return to the earth,
But I've been down that road, in bitter pace.

       I write, not for the pain, which wont relieve.
       However, when it's shared, it will indeed.
Ok I have something... different to share
The Unnamed Sonnet form is a form I created out of love for the rhyme-scheme of the Italian Sonnet, and for Shakespeare's use of the volta when used in the last couplet. I feel like it's a good deviation from the traditional kinds of sonnets because it fills a needed role. In the Unnamed Sonnet form you have the ability to talk about one idea, in two different ways, and then tie them together at the volta, which because of this will usually end up at the couplet. It is harder to do this in a Shakespearean Sonnet due the theme being carried by three quatrains. Similarly in the Italian Sonnet, the Octave usually controls the theme, then the sestet draws to the conclusion. I feel like two sestets followed by a couplet is a strong way to convey one point in two ways. Or to convey two points, separately, while still drawing a strong conclusion. I will eventually get around to naming it, the name is tied into the first one of it's kind, of which I had to strip it's name.
Would love this critiqued
Zackary Mar 2
I doth love thou with most every an ounce of mine own being
So much so yond mine own heart, nor mine own soul hath not the capacity to deny
O, I doth so hold dearly to mine own consciousness
The knowledge yond I truly beest enamored by thee, mine own dearly beloved
Is the reason I shalt subsist; ‘tis for the envy I hold for the world
And for the love of thee; I doth so deeply cherish
Our time together
And as such is true for dram to nay extant being
For thou art mine own muse, wonder of human creation to behold
With a mind full of thoughts and with a heart full of envy, love, and sorrow
We shalt over wroght
And beest ever so true to thee, I shalt beest
Nay want of yare
Nor an abundance of need
Shalt dispell the love I doth hath for thee
For it hath been writ in stone
Again, this is for Jaymee. I love you; you're everything to me and you always will be.
Zackary Mar 2
Thy recesses of heart bestowed upon thee
Art the work of a Master, a prodigy forsooth
Thou hast the complexion of that which is pure
Harbingers of hell doth cower ere
Thine beauty of thee; shalt prosper evermore
Allow me to apologize,
For a queen art thou to me,
Whom ‘gainst one could not make delations
Long after yon, at which hour thou art gone
But if 't be true come the day, forced; thy queen walk hence
Shalt thee leave me, nay!
Still wilt ye reside ‘longside me
Beest t in flesh, or beest t in heart
The love I hath for thee, wilt nev'r fall apart
This is for my best friend and my love; I'm sorry I've hurt you so many times, but you've always stayed by my side no matter what. Thank you to all the people out there like that.
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