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"belated" poems
The belated summer sky is alive with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet Beneath,.. the rain parched sod lay sullied, cracked open by an unsated thirstiness awaiting the painted autumn days and the cleansing rain's renewal A lace-winged hatch rises skyward — meandering  airborne — drifting upwards like a burst of dust dissipating in an invisible cloud of eventide's silent breath Darting shadows hover above a seeker's curiosity     just this side the   softening sunset backdrop A synthesis of fluid motion   – darting kinesis –     swift agile fliers steal away over the thirsty pond; their mesmerizing beauty enchants as the dimming dusk falls silent —- embellishing the unrelenting ending    another summer's  imminent curtain call; reminding how inexorable-time is only a contrived human notion, a recurring extrapolation   of passing  seasons Heightening awareness: how we too are only passing through these unholdable moments    coming to know     we cannot stop    how life unfolds The raindrops will quench the pond's aching thirst again one fall someday...   — hereafter — there will be another beauty of dragonflies some other eyes will see preying on another burgeoning gossamer-winged hatch           and another beckoning autumn when the dragonflies hover below the gazing totems      in the treetops Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
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Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
Ballerinas in the Waning Summer Sky
The belated summer sky is alive with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet Beneath,.. the rain parched sod lay sullied, cracked open by an unsated thirstiness awaiting the painted autumn days and the cleansing rain's renewal A lace-winged hatch rises skyward — meandering  airborne — drifting upwards like a burst of dust dissipating in an invisible cloud of eventide's silent breath Darting shadows hover above a seeker's curiosity     just this side the   softening sunset backdrop A synthesis of fluid motion   – darting kinesis –     swift agile fliers steal away over the thirsty pond; their mesmerizing beauty enchants as the dimming dusk falls silent —- embellishing the unrelenting ending    another summer's  imminent curtain call; reminding how inexorable-time is only a contrived human notion, a recurring extrapolation   of passing  seasons Heightening awareness: how we too are only passing through these unholdable moments    coming to know     we cannot stop    how life unfolds The raindrops will quench the pond's aching thirst again one fall someday...   — hereafter — there will be another beauty of dragonflies some other eyes will see preying on another burgeoning gossamer-winged hatch           and another beckoning autumn when the dragonflies hover below the gazing totems      in the treetops Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
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51
I don’t think you understand, because I don’t, this wasn’t what I planned. So I’m wondering how you can understand, when I don’t. I won’t lose myself loving you, I won’t. You’ve got me feeling too many different things, got me contemplating cutting our tethered strings. Falling in love has me tripping over my own two feet? Maybe. All I know is I’m slipping face first into this tangled mess and now guilt eats at me as I slip from your arms half dressed in the mornings when all I want is to escape, wishing I was Wonder Woman with that red cape. I slip away, but it hurts- but I’ve seen it; my family, we’re cursed. Concerning love, we’ve had no luck I can’t lose you, so I’m labeling us a causal **** I hear you yelling now that you know my reasons, promising our love could survive even the coldest season. But how can he be so sure? Doubts plague me as I slip toward his front door, because love didn’t come with a brochure. I hear you figuring aloud that I don’t love you enough. You come to the conclusion, “if this is how you feel, then I’ll set you free” I got in my car, driving around till the clouds were dark and the clock said three. Your words had been like knives, but then I started thinking about my dad’s four wives. My brain’s all jumbled, it’s like there was one second left, I was on the one yard line, and I fumbled. Is the risk worth it? Could my heart even take the hit? When I got home, in the dark I saw you standing my heart was demanding that I make my way over to you but my brain said these feelings needed to be subdued. I heard you say “I love you too much to set you free” It was then when I looked in your eyes, love was all I could truly see. My scalp tingled in realization, as I floated toward you with some type of natural gravitation. My heart had already taken the risk, without permission and that’s when I mumbled my belated admission; “I love you too and I’ll take my chances,” My brain finally conceded to your romantic advances. But really, truth was, I’d been under an illusion because our love had always been a foregone conclusion.
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Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
Catching Feelings
I don’t think you understand, because I don’t, this wasn’t what I planned. So I’m wondering how you can understand, when I don’t. I won’t lose myself loving you, I won’t. You’ve got me feeling too many different things, got me contemplating cutting our tethered strings. Falling in love has me tripping over my own two feet? Maybe. All I know is I’m slipping face first into this tangled mess and now guilt eats at me as I slip from your arms half dressed in the mornings when all I want is to escape, wishing I was Wonder Woman with that red cape. I slip away, but it hurts- but I’ve seen it; my family, we’re cursed. Concerning love, we’ve had no luck I can’t lose you, so I’m labeling us a causal **** I hear you yelling now that you know my reasons, promising our love could survive even the coldest season. But how can he be so sure? Doubts plague me as I slip toward his front door, because love didn’t come with a brochure. I hear you figuring aloud that I don’t love you enough. You come to the conclusion, “if this is how you feel, then I’ll set you free” I got in my car, driving around till the clouds were dark and the clock said three. Your words had been like knives, but then I started thinking about my dad’s four wives. My brain’s all jumbled, it’s like there was one second left, I was on the one yard line, and I fumbled. Is the risk worth it? Could my heart even take the hit? When I got home, in the dark I saw you standing my heart was demanding that I make my way over to you but my brain said these feelings needed to be subdued. I heard you say “I love you too much to set you free” It was then when I looked in your eyes, love was all I could truly see. My scalp tingled in realization, as I floated toward you with some type of natural gravitation. My heart had already taken the risk, without permission and that’s when I mumbled my belated admission; “I love you too and I’ll take my chances,” My brain finally conceded to your romantic advances. But really, truth was, I’d been under an illusion because our love had always been a foregone conclusion.
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45
Belated Cousin my Younger Cake gives Forgive my Busy Bee to Greet you well Since both we in Tune to the Yorker's, lives Are what a few Dollars which I can sell Now, how was your Day? Special as it seems That the Early History our Links blur Perhaps I was Young to sort out the Reams Forgetting that Paper, Pink would occur Overall, such a Worry-Wart I am To think that you have Stones in my Basket Realising that our Blood's Strength it can Revive my Love's Story in your Pocket. Greatly wish, Manang, my missed Uncle bears Take his Candle; And put it in your hair.
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: RINA D. VARGAS-MALIG
My father died from a gun shot wound to the head self-inflicted Don't get all weird about it. Fathers die and their passing though certain is rarely easy. So what can I say of this man so many years after his emphatic end? I can say what Whitman said of Lincoln: "O Captain, my Captain. Rise up and hear the bells." But he will not. He was ever-present wise and alert a boxer in life a fighter in every way. And I grew up with the gloves on quick elusive and thanks to him successful in every ring.   He died ******* on a lit tobacco stick Emphysema was gonna take him down so he pulled his own trigger saved his family that way though that's a longer tale Therefore and whereas this is a belated requiem for a man I loved. My Captain. Dear and departed these many years may he rest in peace as he never rested in life.
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Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 2:54 AM UTC
My Father
Among the hills a meteorite Lies huge; and moss has overgrown, And wind and rain with touches light Made soft, the contours of the stone. Thus easily can Earth digest A cinder of sidereal fire, And make her translunary guest The native of an English shire. Nor is it strange these wanderers Find in her lap their fitting place, For every particle that's hers Came at the first from outer space. All that is Earth has once been sky; Down from the sun of old she came, Or from some star that travelled by Too close to his entangling flame. Hence, if belated drops yet fall From heaven, on these her plastic power Still works as once it worked on all The glad rush of the golden shower.
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6.9k
The Meteorite
Usually people will say happy birthday without actually caring for the day I am a lout I had no idea the 26th was so important Instead of perusing thoughts I laid dormant Had I risen from fake wars in Afghanistan I would have noticed it was the birthday of Lori Callahan! I apologize for missing such a special date. I hope it was one that no others can equate For you deserve a day to yourself and a special memory to put upon a shelf Happy Birthday Lori! A friend so sweet. Happy Birthday Lori! I hope someone massaged your feet. Happy Birthday Lori! I hope you had a cake with candles. Happy Birthday Lori! May this year be guided by angels. Happy Birthday Lori Callahan!
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
A belated poem for a belated birthday
You broke me... & I allowed it because I so loved the moment before you uttered how I meant nothing. The moment when you could be redeemed. The moment in which my breathe would catch in my throat. The moment in which I desperately wanted to be inlove with you again. The moment in which I wanted to delude myself just one more time into believing you might love me. Believing that you could value me in my human form. The form in which my exhale became reminiscent of your name. You were absorbed into the essence of my very being. You were everything. & now you are nothing. This is neither good nor bad. It simply is. Because you were poisonous and I loved every second of it ; basking in your presence. I was a wilting flower and oh how your kiss felt so much like rain. You were incomparably beautiful to me, but beautiful in the destructive sense. Beautiful like a forest fire. But you are not a forest fire. You were the moon- deeply inconsistent. You could not be redeemed. Not by your smile or the way my name tasted leaving your lips or by the rare tears you would spill whispering a belated apology. You were lost to me. in all your cruelty- completely lost. Except for when i would stand lonely in a crowded room- your voice sounding like the insecurities in my mind. In those moments I'd choked back tears and pretended that the ***** was to blame and not you. I'd Spend the night hurling insults at the stars whose usually beautiful form seemed a grotesque witness to my aching heart. And then I'd want to hurt you how you hurt me, scar your soul repeatedly but then I realised you don't have one. You never did.
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
Backtrack
You broke me... & I allowed it because I so loved the moment before you uttered how I meant nothing. The moment when you could be redeemed. The moment in which my breathe would catch in my throat. The moment in which I desperately wanted to be inlove with you again. The moment in which I wanted to delude myself just one more time into believing you might love me. Believing that you could value me in my human form. The form in which my exhale became reminiscent of your name. You were absorbed into the essence of my very being. You were everything. & now you are nothing. This is neither good nor bad. It simply is. Because you were poisonous and I loved every second of it ; basking in your presence. I was a wilting flower and oh how your kiss felt so much like rain. You were incomparably beautiful to me, but beautiful in the destructive sense. Beautiful like a forest fire. But you are not a forest fire. You were the moon- deeply inconsistent. You could not be redeemed. Not by your smile or the way my name tasted leaving your lips or by the rare tears you would spill whispering a belated apology. You were lost to me. in all your cruelty- completely lost. Except for when i would stand lonely in a crowded room- your voice sounding like the insecurities in my mind. In those moments I'd choked back tears and pretended that the ***** was to blame and not you. I'd Spend the night hurling insults at the stars whose usually beautiful form seemed a grotesque witness to my aching heart. And then I'd want to hurt you how you hurt me, scar your soul repeatedly but then I realised you don't have one. You never did.
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26
Preface **When the broad mind has opened, to gaze the stars that shinning in the unfathomable skies and the glittering Nature, its flowers’ fragrances given to taste the wealthy realms of her, as well as Earth's mysteries—that I ever think of to feel and by my thoughts that spread so deep to try to work with things that sounds of ‛creative’. Here I the ‛moody soul’ started his first journey, leaving his home  a few years ago and his up-start was through Literature, Science and Arts and Fiction. Writings and paintings here I believed to be most powerful and that those more often need to convey by the Artist’s conscience and the intensity that gains moral knowledge and appreciation. Here the book has the pictorial paths of Quest and the wanderings, all by imagination’s boat, sails from the western Ideas and its enthusiastic flow. Some finds hope along and also hopelessness, God and Love vagabonding among these ink-stained pages. Dreamt in the wandering world where no chains shall bind, from the dark veiled lands to the daring spark, no atoms that obscure the force calling light, to aim the glad precious moments of life, to embrace me with a silence and its whispering magic, where gate of hope’s always open to bliss, thundering words are always from roam, the nocturnal pleasure that I only know, and when all will run away as time—why I alone in the upward steps of solitude that caressing wild only wings? If I met Life as a strange stage of different senses—and I only say you to enjoy the aggressive fruits of my invention. Here it is for all of you can read and evaluate.** Nithin Purple Acknowledgement                                        **This book is dedicated to my parents of Love and support, from where I got the powers to be inspired—to write and prove. Special Thanks to Parisian Author and poet Roman Payne of ‛cultural book’ for supporting me as a writer of varying tastes.  Also Writer, Wilson B Sanchez of New York, who first gave suggestions   and his valuable sparkling comments of self-improvable topics, which I always bother. Belated friend, poet and writer, Curtis Plaskon from France for his valuable support. Also Poet Timothy & Hilda from Virginia, to them I had good writing memories. And for all the Indians, this book is an open heart to read.**
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
Preface & Acknowledgement For My book 'Halcyon Wings'
Preface **When the broad mind has opened, to gaze the stars that shinning in the unfathomable skies and the glittering Nature, its flowers’ fragrances given to taste the wealthy realms of her, as well as Earth's mysteries—that I ever think of to feel and by my thoughts that spread so deep to try to work with things that sounds of ‛creative’. Here I the ‛moody soul’ started his first journey, leaving his home  a few years ago and his up-start was through Literature, Science and Arts and Fiction. Writings and paintings here I believed to be most powerful and that those more often need to convey by the Artist’s conscience and the intensity that gains moral knowledge and appreciation. Here the book has the pictorial paths of Quest and the wanderings, all by imagination’s boat, sails from the western Ideas and its enthusiastic flow. Some finds hope along and also hopelessness, God and Love vagabonding among these ink-stained pages. Dreamt in the wandering world where no chains shall bind, from the dark veiled lands to the daring spark, no atoms that obscure the force calling light, to aim the glad precious moments of life, to embrace me with a silence and its whispering magic, where gate of hope’s always open to bliss, thundering words are always from roam, the nocturnal pleasure that I only know, and when all will run away as time—why I alone in the upward steps of solitude that caressing wild only wings? If I met Life as a strange stage of different senses—and I only say you to enjoy the aggressive fruits of my invention. Here it is for all of you can read and evaluate.** Nithin Purple Acknowledgement                                        **This book is dedicated to my parents of Love and support, from where I got the powers to be inspired—to write and prove. Special Thanks to Parisian Author and poet Roman Payne of ‛cultural book’ for supporting me as a writer of varying tastes.  Also Writer, Wilson B Sanchez of New York, who first gave suggestions   and his valuable sparkling comments of self-improvable topics, which I always bother. Belated friend, poet and writer, Curtis Plaskon from France for his valuable support. Also Poet Timothy & Hilda from Virginia, to them I had good writing memories. And for all the Indians, this book is an open heart to read.**
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11
If only we could begin again and slow down the pernicious pace We ruin our oceans, the land, our air even outer space. If only we avoided such precarious paths that may lead to disparity If only we knew what action is needed now, to deal with the reality. Ecologists warned, yet still observe with ever-growing anxiety the growth of harmful long-term effects on Earth's biodiversity. If only the air wasn't gravely polluted, so the atmosphere begins to fail, so wreathed by carbon dioxide layers, extremes to climate may prevail. If only Earth's lungs cease being shrunk by profits heedless exploitation, existing relationships are considered scarcely in these aberrations. If only a solution for discarded synthetics which float in ugly hordes on oceans global drifts, disaster occurs wherever it reaches landfall. If only we can do something, a belated but resounding universal call, If only we can safeguard the future before there are no options at all. If only we could begin again and slow the ruinous pace... if only If Only M C Crowder @scorsby 19th November 2018
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Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
If Only
So as much as this Drama does persist Your Prisoned Warning tugs at my Cool Shirt Asking me to take Prudence and desist In bashing Silence to where it would hurt Now engraved in Copper I will make Clear: For all my Writ Plagues I Apologise, Deep in use plug Buds to that Trumpet's Ear If Empathy a Letter in disguise This my Friend's Spy; Deploy to high pursuit Waving that Placard in belated claim Which tastes folly less on a nutty boot And Reprimand stamped on his just Remain. Such I learned that Friendship's Best takes no Force I Follow my Heart; Now you Follow yours.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:04 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - THIRTY-THREE - TOM DALEY
Of what to Think, and Thought be Thought-of-Thoughts Equalling those Clouds no-one tried to reach And with just a Model-of-the-Board besought Belated Nations took you to beseech Parsley that in Sick Reference apply To One dug-out from Humble Electric Honour is his beyond the Scythe comply And carry his Image on so frantic That is my Code acquired late at War Knowing the Outcome of this Useless Battle As that Spartan King drew his Sword at fore Charged his Army; And the Persian, wrangle. It's News to me, if I can Speak the Truth If only I Avoid what seems Un-Couth.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - EIGHTY - TOM DALEY
to-day I sat in a slim line chair in which I was made aware of the size of my posterior's pear it drooped over the sides of the seat and it didn't look orderly or neat a not so subtle message my buns have relayed to me they've said that they are a little too hefty I'm making a belated New Years resolution which is to seek an answer to my tails expansive evolution being unable to place my posterior in a chair is truly a most wretched affair
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
Wretched Affair
Happy Belated Birthday, my dear! I hope it was happy and full of cheer, God bless you, my friend; And lots of happiness to you I do send. I hope your birthday was happy, With smiles and giggles sunny, The best of wishes I wish for you; For a friend loyal and true! ~Marian~
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
Happy Belated Birthday!
Even though it isn't Mother's Day, I hope this poem is perfect in everyway, I always love you so; As the days come then quickly go. I wish I could do something grand for you, To show you that my love for you is true, And I am not ashamed to say; Happy Belated Mother's Day! Your delicious cooking fills the air, Made by your gentle hands with love and care, Those beautiful hands lovingly kneading bread; Or pointing me to bed. Or lovingly stroking those furry darlings, But you are my brown-eyed starling, Sweeter then them, lovelier than them all; You succeed and do not fall! Loving hands dancing across piano keys, It's tinkling melody floating on the breeze, Holding a journal on your lap; Listening to the rain on the roof tap. Pretty brown eyes and light brown hair, A long face of gentle care, O, mother dear you are better than them all; You succeed and never fall! Happy Belated Mother's Day, Mom! ~Marian~
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Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
Belated Mother's Day
So sometimes, I still double back, To these little pretty things- Where I entwine my written words with depictive new meanings. Happy birthday, I must first say To my Albanian commerce kid. When we met, then when I left, I always appreciated all you did. Next comes the apologizes, I'm sure you know what for The fact that you showed up, for me? Confirms it even more: Julia Kruja, you're an incredible person- such a beautiful soul, Its a blessing to call you 'friend', and remain someone you know. With unconditional support- unwavering sincerity whichever way things go. Despite my lack of clarity, selfishness and pain- you're always there to meet with me, make plans again and again. You instill this worth back in my soul, by treating me the same- removing judgement from your heart, Regifting hope inside my brain. Happy Belated Birthday my friend
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Sep 18, 2023
Sep 18, 2023 at 6:23 AM UTC
Julia's 26th
My lovely dear friend Responsive, compassionate Warm wishes to you!
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Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
Belated Birthday Haiku
**Belated Happy Birthday Madison Sweet Friend Sorry This Is Late** ~Hilda~
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
Happy Birthday
So busy was I ne'er a poem written The reason my sorry heart is smitten His poems consist of such variety Admired much by our family of three Lovely poems written exceedingly well Industrious pen's task does never fail Although birthdays come only once a year May God brighten your others with glad cheer Gladdening our hearts when we feel so down Happy though late birthday Timothy Brown! ~Hilda~
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Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Happy Belated Birthday
Barrels of oil painted smooth in acryllic fill up the cracks with a feeling spit out the money to feed the machine Fair if it's toiling kids draped along spoiled villians immersed to serve the version of a billionaire's dream eat the rich Try me after I've been taught I could've bought my chain I would've lost my name I should've dropped my shame facade to play the game We grew the youthful breath of heaven from the clay beneath our bones imbued and innervated aided you and drew the oath to play within the zone circle reverie treasury burdens bury the feathery, herding squarely to fame - put on a show eat the rich dare me you and yours invaded bated breath had sung belated effort, whistle "death has reared it's head at our expense so grab a sword. We can war this **** straight out of this ole ditch and fix whatever ***** gone wrong with it with grit and sense and build a fence" Forget the soil your roots are grown in, if you want to. bask in shadow of the weight of trust and decency impeding our advances to your winner's table fabled robin hoods with internets guess who's deft enough let you know through every filter left for us we may upset your dinner guests let em know what's on the menu eat the rich let em know The irony in learning how to burn the fuel that kills you after all the warning signs were there sound familiar? it's a slog burnin up, they'll crawl around and find a meal on common ground try the light show one more time maybe that'll work "The serfs are like a herd you see they can't be riled along without a sermon Burden them with silks and styles worry them toward money piles" Remind them of the fire they've been turning Analogies aside I must abide by me and mine but I've still got my eye on anything ...concerning eat the rich with discretion I guess.
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May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
Billionaire Pie.
Barrels of oil painted smooth in acryllic fill up the cracks with a feeling spit out the money to feed the machine Fair if it's toiling kids draped along spoiled villians immersed to serve the version of a billionaire's dream eat the rich Try me after I've been taught I could've bought my chain I would've lost my name I should've dropped my shame facade to play the game We grew the youthful breath of heaven from the clay beneath our bones imbued and innervated aided you and drew the oath to play within the zone circle reverie treasury burdens bury the feathery, herding squarely to fame - put on a show eat the rich dare me you and yours invaded bated breath had sung belated effort, whistle "death has reared it's head at our expense so grab a sword. We can war this **** straight out of this ole ditch and fix whatever ***** gone wrong with it with grit and sense and build a fence" Forget the soil your roots are grown in, if you want to. bask in shadow of the weight of trust and decency impeding our advances to your winner's table fabled robin hoods with internets guess who's deft enough let you know through every filter left for us we may upset your dinner guests let em know what's on the menu eat the rich let em know The irony in learning how to burn the fuel that kills you after all the warning signs were there sound familiar? it's a slog burnin up, they'll crawl around and find a meal on common ground try the light show one more time maybe that'll work "The serfs are like a herd you see they can't be riled along without a sermon Burden them with silks and styles worry them toward money piles" Remind them of the fire they've been turning Analogies aside I must abide by me and mine but I've still got my eye on anything ...concerning eat the rich with discretion I guess.
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56
Must you be here in such an interesting illusion? Why must you sit in such... vogue? Here though, you exist in fashionable cyst. Bygone futures of blighted sutures Youngster-stale and eight-hundred pale Destitute pasts of layer passes present Horses gather at the gates of heaven Spitting at me And in this way, I've given myself nightmarish feelings. Yellow blocks provides battery-colored translucence a doubt of mortals Tungsten belated harmony
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Capsule Tarnish, Antiques And Lady
Happy belated birthday My dearly missed friend. I'm sure you had a heavenly party That I regretfully didn't attend. I couldn't think of you yesterday It still hurts to say your name. They say time will heal the ache But it lingers yet the same. I say a silent prayer for your soul And push the thought away. Time is only a theif. It isn't any easier today.
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May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC
Happy Heavenly Birthday
I am a carousel going too fast. The grey sky is my envelope, when it opens it pours with belated emotion and fiery. Ironing out the creases, straightening my mind, I am okay “I am okay” I. Am. Okay. I repeat over and over . This is a temporary glitch, The carousel is slowing, slowing but my mind it goes faster and faster until! The carousel reaches its impending doom. Delayed reactions, my head is still spinning my hands are holding so tight onto the horses beautiful deep black reins. The carousel with its supposedly fairytale ending, riding on the back of a horse into a state of complete relaxation and calmness. I hear the neigh of the horse before my head hits the floor and I enter the black hole my mind.
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
Carousel
The Hummingbird The golden egg, an Owl put In the nest of nerd, Out of which came then The Hummingbird. A gemmy nestling saw nerd, the sooty Raven He was terribly shocked and in grief driven. Aware Peahen asked Raven Eyes aren wet? Seethingly he answered her The little I hate. The restless little flatters, As a bee unstable And hovers above flowers Which do wobble. Belated Peahen took Raven To Peacock White. The incident she explained, And story did recite. Let my wisdom penetrate, In thy empty brain, Love begets love; hate hate Said Whitish sane. Take care of her, no her liberty, The little be free. Wish she pearches on loyalty; A branch of Tree. S. Bharat
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Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 1:03 AM UTC
The Hummingbird
She asked for my new address, around my birthday Today you have to scroll a lot, on my FB page To find a super belated wish Yet, twice a day, I merrily pick a small key Acknowledge the faint flutter within and check the empty letterbox Coz I am pragmatic, not a hopeless romantic I check the empty letterbox, coz I have already bought a lovely red Thank You card
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
Letter Box