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We may never stand just inches apart
or know the warmth and sweetness of the others lips
but you will always hold my heart
When I get lost in the colors of madness in your eyes
I wonder if you aren't more dream than human
If you aren't a song made of flesh and blood and bones
A poem pulled from the fires of eternity
Words waiting to stain the skin of my soul
Stories yet to be written within the pages of my heart
If you are not the perfection of love then love cannot be perfect
but whatever love is
It cannot be beautiful without you
There's something quite poetic
In the way in which a bee dies.
Once it's stung its victim,
It's almost as though it can't take
That it has caused somebody else pain.
So it dies.
Just like that.
 May 2017 charlotte hope
Chwins
The depth of feeling I have for you is terrifying.
You’re a walking contradiction
Of the most captivating kind.
I’m a moth and you’re the flame --
And ours was the most beautiful encounter I’ve ever had.
i wanted an angel.

peach flavoured love that dripped down my chin, lips covered in sugar.

i wanted passion.

to ascend unlonely through the cotton candy sky with all of its lovely whispers.

i wanted a muse.

someone to kiss and tell the world about as i bit my sugar dusted lip, and dreamed of their sunfilled mouth, and i wanted constant contact and all of the tell me you love me moments.

my fragile lungs would hardly be able to breathe in air as pure as the air that they'd breathe.

i wanted an angel to love until i became one. I needed love so badly that it would choke me with cold hands, frigid but still warm somehow.

i wanted guidance. to soar away from here.
( Sonnet )*

Under the primrose stars, the lovers
Lie abed, on green, threadbare croft
Of sleeping daisy, clover and moss,
Trails with hushed air, an embroidery
So fine as to stitch blushing heart fall
And wrap the waters full of quietude
In graces, winding, soft, granulating
Time, wings flutter and hum, winsome
Sparks, fire white, flying as little suns
Burst confetti, in sweet encampment,
Of grass and sapling wood, innocents,
Charmed are wholly twining, in moon
Rise a lantern to the winking heavens,
Out of their skins they are climbing.
Re: a poem of mine, finally being chosen as 'The Daily Poem' ( it only took over five years )

First, I'd like to thank all the fine writers and readers on HP for your lovely comments and support.

Secondly,
As an earnest and hopeful poet, who has been here, posting poems nearly since the beginning of 'Hello Poetry'
I'd like to thank the HP - daily poet - algorithm for finally choosing one of the hundreds of poems I've listed here.
Perhaps the ghost in the machine has a heart after all?
.

— The End —