Starry starry night,
A star is shinning so bright;
It's light years away

What do you like about her?

For some reason, I could not decide what to say. When someone asks what I like about her, my mind goes racing so fast that I get caught up in my words.

She's the type of girl who would force the secret out of you if you refuse to tell it to her.

She's the type of girl who doesn't care about what other people think, she lives her life without anyone dictating it for her.

And her curves. God, if I could, I'd trace her curves all day.

She's the type of girl who gets jealous, even with the littlest of things. I thought at first it was normal to get jealous, but this is different. She'd get jealous not because you're breathing the same air as the other girl, but she'd get jealous because she's territorial-- she wants you all to herself.

She's the type of girl who never stops talking. If talking were a sport, she'd be an olympic medalist! But no matter how far off her topics would be, you'd never get tired of her, ever. You'd probably even drift away, lost in her eyes, and she'd have to snap her fingers in front of you to come back to your senses.

She's just mesmerizing, like you would probably touch her arm just to make sure that she's real. She's the full moon on a starry night; God, how could such an amazing person exist?

I'll admit, she's not perfect. Perfection is overrated. She has flaws, and that's why I fell in love with her in the first place. I fell in love with her flaws.

Your starry eyes and my galaxy mind
dance together in the depths of the night.
No matter how bright I may seem
or how darkly you gleam,
no light compares to those stars I can see next to me.

Morning words that taste so sweet;
But your anticipation hides a hiss that won’t leave
And my attention will dwindle, too, like stars committing suicide
Problems precipitate on the porcelain sink and I think while it pours outside:
What you’re doing is eating at the pillars, your intent
Might very well be testing me like the Ocean tests a new continent
Your questions propel with good intention, but miss with bad-rap
And I drift between them aimlessly making no sense of the roadmap
And where my home is between fun and love and longevity
I watch you in the corner of the motel room as it stretches away from me
Your world crumbles like the end of your "bad habit”
That’s now mine too, and ever since I’ve been washing the red out of my T-shirt
I’ve been blue.

The owl and the ***** cat
Were out having tea
After a simple beach side walk

The owl took out a guitar
And sang to kitty brash, kneeled
Before her Crimson chair

A sweet  romantic ballad it was
Yet ***** cat was too busy
Observing  owl and noticing
What a dainty meal he'd make.

Interrupting his declarations
She stole him away
Under the starry  midnight  sky

Whereupon in the woods
Her claws she unsheathed
And silenced his poetic  *display

23 | 31 Poems for August

They laughed and criticized at my starry eyes.
But suddenly stopped when I rose like the morning sun.
So now I humbly thank God for all that He has done.
In a world burdened and ravaged by wars that seem to go on for forever.
I try to find peace inside myself and pray to become someone better.  
I’m responsible for my own peace.
But He protects me in the battles I fight on my knees.
The figures of speech I use may often remain unappreciated.
The words I speak may often remain unheard.
The poems I write may often remain unread.
But the beauty of God’s grandeur will never go unnoticed.
You can see it in my starry eyes.