"delightly" poems - Hello Poetry

This truest love, triumphantly is a bird of prey marauding 'twain these grayest skies and tenured gain dine with blessed distinction, feathered queen! And any mice caught in between- For does my love in summer's rain prey on the solace of my nightly dreams Do gauge my love as span of wings the distance 'tween each finger Her wings are spread and through the sky she soars in arcs and swirls Each and every blissless night, she passes coyly o'erhead, The curtain in my blood unfurls and this presence ever lingers- Perched aloof and tauntingly in a bending oak she says: "These stars that hover above the sky I disbelieve- Their palaver, quaint and lasting, I disbelieve- They grip and guide my flutters as an ever-tightn'ng yoke." Each hand I place o'er the other, 'til each branch is a rung, ladder to the moon. Said: "And coldly does this horrib' moon smile, she laughs 'til my tail is the dust each stroke of hours and minutes speak to me this cunning moon pours in our hearts this lust- How could these shambles any trust?" This sky, though blacken'd, cannot rend apart what's happened, and all it sees with terrible eyes can prevent not this love fore'er mend- She glode politely out o' reach, To soar delightly by me- Said: "I see the jilted morning glory bowing to the moon. Each stalk twines traitoriously a capsulating swoon- Each fruit it bears bequeathes 'nto me callous forms of elliptic bracts, eats as nothing more than flax-" For every morning glory's betray'l I'll harvest ten thousand Orchids from the meadow's fringe, plucked from the margins of the bog- This love is not a passing arc that follows does that jealous moon- I'll trek the acid, foy an' dinge, and, if those mice do not erstwhile dine on this orchid's seeds, that which lays dormant, 'neath the leaves will send up freshly blooming stalks.

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May 22, 2010

May 22, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC

nicholas-pugliese-1

Avian

This truest love, triumphantly is a bird of prey marauding 'twain these grayest skies and tenured gain dine with blessed distinction, feathered queen! And any mice caught in between- For does my love in summer's rain prey on the solace of my nightly dreams Do gauge my love as span of wings the distance 'tween each finger Her wings are spread and through the sky she soars in arcs and swirls Each and every blissless night, she passes coyly o'erhead, The curtain in my blood unfurls and this presence ever lingers- Perched aloof and tauntingly in a bending oak she says: "These stars that hover above the sky I disbelieve- Their palaver, quaint and lasting, I disbelieve- They grip and guide my flutters as an ever-tightn'ng yoke." Each hand I place o'er the other, 'til each branch is a rung, ladder to the moon. Said: "And coldly does this horrib' moon smile, she laughs 'til my tail is the dust each stroke of hours and minutes speak to me this cunning moon pours in our hearts this lust- How could these shambles any trust?" This sky, though blacken'd, cannot rend apart what's happened, and all it sees with terrible eyes can prevent not this love fore'er mend- She glode politely out o' reach, To soar delightly by me- Said: "I see the jilted morning glory bowing to the moon. Each stalk twines traitoriously a capsulating swoon- Each fruit it bears bequeathes 'nto me callous forms of elliptic bracts, eats as nothing more than flax-" For every morning glory's betray'l I'll harvest ten thousand Orchids from the meadow's fringe, plucked from the margins of the bog- This love is not a passing arc that follows does that jealous moon- I'll trek the acid, foy an' dinge, and, if those mice do not erstwhile dine on this orchid's seeds, that which lays dormant, 'neath the leaves will send up freshly blooming stalks.

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I told a woman her child died. I told a mother her child will never be there again. I told a mother the bright beautiful dreaming girl she raised and watched grow is no longer breathing. I broke a persons soul. I told a father her princess died. I broke their soul as well. I made a promise to keep this princess alive and stand by her side no matter how much she hurt me, no matter how much she hated me at times, she wanted to **** near **** me and my friends, but I loved her. She smiled so delightly, she passed through days so peacefully. She wasn't sad truthfully she wasn't. I knew her like the back of my hand I knew every little sign every little thing about her. She wasn't sad entirely. No one can truthfully say they aren't sad deep down about something. But ive come to learn a thought, a thought of death, a thought of blood dripping down your arms, a thought of curiousity of who would care. Sometimes that thought that urge the need to find out is all it takes. The princess of my life. The light tk the worst times ever. Shes gone, no sign, no pulse, no hint of why. Her pale skin is ice. Her eyes are closer. Her hair is on the side. Her wrist on her waist. Her feet turned to the side. She fell, she fell to the ground. Her sweet voice is gone. She was a dreamer, a dreamer who actually made the dreams come true. She made life an ok thing. I don't know many who cant say she could rebuild the world if it fell. A strong girl died. A wonderious princess fell. I told the mother this princess has simply died.. The promise I made so much while ago became a thing to pursue blame. To tell a mother her child died. Well it haunts you for ever. You never get back the thing you are so delighted to have in your life. Its like ripping your life you made away from you and crushing it. Its torture.. Having a child die is one thing, having the child be yours. That's your death right there you don't life after that its only pure death from then on. The blame will mostly forever be put on me. Because of a promise I couldn't keep. But a little thing the princess taught me. Show your pain even if your high titled or looked up to cause what's a good hero with no emotion or realism. -Lovey

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Oct 13, 2015

Oct 13, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC

mickie-rouxe

R.i.p Lyla

I told a woman her child died. I told a mother her child will never be there again. I told a mother the bright beautiful dreaming girl she raised and watched grow is no longer breathing. I broke a persons soul. I told a father her princess died. I broke their soul as well. I made a promise to keep this princess alive and stand by her side no matter how much she hurt me, no matter how much she hated me at times, she wanted to **** near **** me and my friends, but I loved her. She smiled so delightly, she passed through days so peacefully. She wasn't sad truthfully she wasn't. I knew her like the back of my hand I knew every little sign every little thing about her. She wasn't sad entirely. No one can truthfully say they aren't sad deep down about something. But ive come to learn a thought, a thought of death, a thought of blood dripping down your arms, a thought of curiousity of who would care. Sometimes that thought that urge the need to find out is all it takes. The princess of my life. The light tk the worst times ever. Shes gone, no sign, no pulse, no hint of why. Her pale skin is ice. Her eyes are closer. Her hair is on the side. Her wrist on her waist. Her feet turned to the side. She fell, she fell to the ground. Her sweet voice is gone. She was a dreamer, a dreamer who actually made the dreams come true. She made life an ok thing. I don't know many who cant say she could rebuild the world if it fell. A strong girl died. A wonderious princess fell. I told the mother this princess has simply died.. The promise I made so much while ago became a thing to pursue blame. To tell a mother her child died. Well it haunts you for ever. You never get back the thing you are so delighted to have in your life. Its like ripping your life you made away from you and crushing it. Its torture.. Having a child die is one thing, having the child be yours. That's your death right there you don't life after that its only pure death from then on. The blame will mostly forever be put on me. Because of a promise I couldn't keep. But a little thing the princess taught me. Show your pain even if your high titled or looked up to cause what's a good hero with no emotion or realism. -Lovey

1

Silent kisses And painful goodbyes Torn hearts And silent cries Bruised lips Ravaged delightly Tormented minds ******* slightly Your strumming on my heartstrings But you dont even Know how Im tired of putting up with you But as your queen All I Can Do Is Bow

0

Apr 18, 2015

Apr 18, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC

saheila-badaaftu

ode to my king

Silent kisses And painful goodbyes Torn hearts And silent cries Bruised lips Ravaged delightly Tormented minds ******* slightly Your strumming on my heartstrings But you dont even Know how Im tired of putting up with you But as your queen All I Can Do Is Bow

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