A poem is like a tickle,
it gives both joy and pain:
with blissful tears and tearful giggles,
you'll read that poem again.

A poem is like a damaged heart in need of surgery:
a cut that heals,
a line that leaves a scar
along your heart.

Francie Lynch
From his portrait on HelloPoetry.com
https://hellopoetry.com/francie-lynch/

I long for spring to warm me up after the sub zero winter chills.
I long for spring to come and take away my ills.
The asthmatic weezing is getting old as well as the snow and cold.
Spring please come my way soon I pray.
I long for better and warmer and sunny days
Spring come and please stay awhile
I know that your very presence will make me smile especially when the trees grow leaves again and the flowers bloom
The birds will come back and sing you a tune
My heart always makes room for you too.

the edge keeps getting
harder to find
keep my ledge clean
brush away this uneasy
disparate ride

spin your thread
that delicate strand
wish me good luck

and i'm not a dancer
but if you ask,
fate or fortune?
smiling,
dancing madly backwards
I'll ride the razor ribbon wire
into the wall of shadows

and until the tug of destiny
and before the ringing of bells
keep me close to your heart.

On world poetry day
I'm a tortured poet
When my ambiguous words
And meanings
Touch your soul

I don't really have friends
Politics portends
Life goes on until it ends

                    Reno!

I'm not a very funny person
But I like to laugh
I would write a letter
On your behalf

Lost in Translation
Found in harmony
Tokyo at night
Beauty Baltic Sea

               We

Fear of death my whole life
           Please courage
                   Please.