I have never given love much thought,
it was the pleasure that I always sought.
Moments I spent in entwining arms,
attractive odour,
and cunning charms.

Tempting warm lips,
and sweet kisses,
long soft moans,
and ***** wishes.
Shivers of pleasure that made me high,
a pounding heart,
and breathless sigh.

Then I saw a sight I had never seen,
an earthly angel,
or a heavenly being.
A saintly visage bright and demure,
with a slim figure,
but fully mature.

I stood bewildered in total suspension,
but my mind was focused with rapt attention.
As if the angel had shot an arrow, it pierced my heart,
and reached my marrow.

I wished I was in lovers hall, where lovers dwell,
and the maidens call.
From the fountain of love,
they all would drink,
where the doves are white,
and roses are pink.

In moments of mirth I closed my eyes,
as my heart had roamed the fleecy skies.
I felt a bliss from above descend, when to my heart,
a message she sent.

My heart for her began to sing,
as she made me feel I am the king.
For every king there is a throne, my earthly angel will be my own. With a steady hand and a glass of wine,
I salute all lovers, that love have defined.

I sit alone,
and meditate.
I think of kin,
I dare to hate.
I think of things,
that I have done.
I think of people,
we live among.


I think of deeds,
that shame my soul.
I think of sins,
I can’t control.
But as I embrace,
my inner peace,
my true emotions,
begin to feast.


To God I pray,
with all regret,
and hope my sins,
I can forget.
In time of need,
He is my guide.
He is indeed,
the righteous side.

I stare ahead at the wavy blue,
As I recall the lovely sue.
Her love is still well hooked within,
I am not so sure where to begin.
There was a time my heart was free,
A hummingbird on a willow tree.
But what fate had in store for me,
Changed my life a great degree.


I never thought I would fall in love,
With a pretty rose, a tender dove.
She grasped my heart with a swifty swing,
It hit me hard, not just a sting.
I lost my mind and self control,
But knew I’m here to play a role.
For what I learned along the way,
Love is a game no one can play.

My sweet canary just loves to sing,
with his yellow beak and golden wing.
His lovely songs will make you shake,
all other tunes will sound a fake.
But as I sit and think alone,
NoI feel my heart is made of stone.
My precious bird could be my sin,
I keep his soul well locked within.
For every soul is born so free,
I doubt your mind will disagree.

No words shall please my soul,
if not from deep within.
In life we laugh and weep,
as moods with time do spin.
Even a poet does need a flare,
to devise his ringy rhymes.
To sculpt a verse from solid words,
is a masters work, sublime.

When fine words mingle and mix,
with sweet lovely emotions,
a lady’s heart will surely yield,
without showing a notion.
Delightful words do cast a spell,
on people where they stand.
Being a charmer may pay your rent,
to the lady of the land.

No torrent is strong or tough,
to sweep a poets will.
And no drought is harsh enough,
to dry a poets well.
Eloquent words,
soft and smooth,
too far from being absurd.
When spoken loud,
they steal the show,
on every stage and stand.

I praise the wise and respect the wisdom of every old and young, for when they speak they pave the way to every poem or song.

There is a charm in all their words and phrases short or long. In what they say you should believe until you prove them wrong.

When wisdom speaks I always listen to thoughts of brilliant minds,
just like a gem or precious stone or gold in haunted mines.

I feel the words and see them spark in corners everywhere, sometimes I even smell their scent floating in the air.

A set of words in form of art could take your breath away,
for classy words will make you feel in heaven you want to stay.

I wish I was a famous scholar or a poet who plays a part,
I like to think I have a say in themes that steal the heart.

Even the blind wisdom they see gleaming in the dark,
but ignorant words from a stupid fool could tear your life apart.

My words might sound to some strange,
or my rhymes maybe rough around the edges.

I only write what I can arrange,
I don’t need to stand on any bridges.

Sometimes I am not in my right state of mind,
all my thoughts are scattered along the ridges.

But other times I glow bright like a star,
or piece of art in its fringes.

No matter how hard you try,
you can’t please people,
even if your words are riches.

What your heart tells you is always right,
so don't ignore your pain and look at the stitches.

Continue to write what’s on your mind,
and don’t stop as long as you’re writing hand itches