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Ye learnèd sisters, which have oftentimes
Beene to me ayding, others to adorne,
Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes,
That even the greatest did not greatly scorne
To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes,
But joyèd in theyr praise;
And when ye list your owne mishaps to mourne,
Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse,
Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne,
And teach the woods and waters to lament
Your dolefull dreriment:
Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside;
And, having all your heads with girlands crownd,
Helpe me mine owne loves prayses to resound;
Ne let the same of any be envide:
So Orpheus did for his owne bride!
So I unto my selfe alone will sing;
The woods shall to me answer, and my Eccho ring.

Early, before the worlds light-giving lampe
His golden beame upon the hils doth spred,
Having disperst the nights unchearefull dampe,
Doe ye awake; and, with fresh *****-hed,
Go to the bowre of my belovèd love,
My truest turtle dove;
Bid her awake; for ***** is awake,
And long since ready forth his maske to move,
With his bright Tead that flames with many a flake,
And many a bachelor to waite on him,
In theyr fresh garments trim.
Bid her awake therefore, and soone her dight,
For lo! the wishèd day is come at last,
That shall, for all the paynes and sorrowes past,
Pay to her usury of long delight:
And, whylest she doth her dight,
Doe ye to her of joy and solace sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Bring with you all the Nymphes that you can heare
Both of the rivers and the forrests greene,
And of the sea that neighbours to her neare:
Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene.
And let them also with them bring in hand
Another gay girland
For my fayre love, of lillyes and of roses,
Bound truelove wize, with a blew silke riband.
And let them make great store of bridale poses,
And let them eeke bring store of other flowers,
To deck the bridale bowers.
And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread,
For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong,
Be strewed with fragrant flowers all along,
And diapred lyke the discolored mead.
Which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt,
For she will waken strayt;
The whiles doe ye this song unto her sing,
The woods shall to you answer, and your Eccho ring.

Ye Nymphes of Mulla, which with carefull heed
The silver scaly trouts doe tend full well,
And greedy pikes which use therein to feed;
(Those trouts and pikes all others doo excell;)
And ye likewise, which keepe the rushy lake,
Where none doo fishes take;
Bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd light,
And in his waters, which your mirror make,
Behold your faces as the christall bright,
That when you come whereas my love doth lie,
No blemish she may spie.
And eke, ye lightfoot mayds, which keepe the deere,
That on the hoary mountayne used to towre;
And the wylde wolves, which seeke them to devoure,
With your steele darts doo chace from comming neer;
Be also present heere,
To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time;
The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed,
All ready to her silver coche to clyme;
And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed.
Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies
And carroll of Loves praise.
The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft;
The Thrush replyes; the Mavis descant playes;
The Ouzell shrills; the Ruddock warbles soft;
So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,
To this dayes merriment.
Ah! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long?
When meeter were that ye should now awake,
T’ awayt the comming of your joyous make,
And hearken to the birds love-learnèd song,
The deawy leaves among!
Nor they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.

My love is now awake out of her dreames,
And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmèd were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now, ye damzels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight:
But first come ye fayre houres, which were begot
In Joves sweet paradice of Day and Night;
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot,
And al, that ever in this world is fayre,
Doe make and still repayre:
And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene,
The which doe still adorne her beauties pride,
Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride:
And, as ye her array, still throw betweene
Some graces to be seene;
And, as ye use to Venus, to her sing,
The whiles the woods shal answer, and your eccho ring.

Now is my love all ready forth to come:
Let all the virgins therefore well awayt:
And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her groome,
Prepare your selves; for he is comming strayt.
Set all your things in seemely good aray,
Fit for so joyfull day:
The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see.
Faire Sun! shew forth thy favourable ray,
And let thy lifull heat not fervent be,
For feare of burning her sunshyny face,
Her beauty to disgrace.
O fayrest Phoebus! father of the Muse!
If ever I did honour thee aright,
Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight,
Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse;
But let this day, let this one day, be myne;
Let all the rest be thine.
Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing,
That all the woods shal answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Harke! how the Minstrils gin to shrill aloud
Their merry Musick that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Croud,
That well agree withouten breach or jar.
But, most of all, the Damzels doe delite
When they their tymbrels smyte,
And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,
That all the sences they doe ravish quite;
The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street,
Crying aloud with strong confusèd noyce,
As if it were one voyce,
*****, iö *****, *****, they do shout;
That even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill;
To which the people standing all about,
As in approvance, doe thereto applaud,
And loud advaunce her laud;
And evermore they *****, ***** sing,
That al the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Loe! where she comes along with portly pace,
Lyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the East,
Arysing forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that seemes a ****** best.
So well it her beseemes, that ye would weene
Some angell she had beene.
Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre,
Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene,
Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre;
And, being crownèd with a girland greene,
Seeme lyke some mayden Queene.
Her modest eyes, abashèd to behold
So many gazers as on her do stare,
Upon the lowly ground affixèd are;
Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold,
But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud,
So farre from being proud.
Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see
So fayre a creature in your towne before;
So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she,
Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store?
Her goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining bright,
Her forehead yvory white,
Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips lyke cherryes charming men to byte,
Her brest like to a bowle of creame uncrudded,
Her paps lyke lyllies budded,
Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre;
And all her body like a pallace fayre,
Ascending up, with many a stately stayre,
To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre.
Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze,
Upon her so to gaze,
Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing,
To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring?

But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,
And stand astonisht lyke to those which red
Medusaes mazeful hed.
There dwels sweet love, and constant chastity,
Unspotted fayth, and comely womanhood,
Regard of honour, and mild modesty;
There vertue raynes as Queene in royal throne,
And giveth lawes alone,
The which the base affections doe obay,
And yeeld theyr services unto her will;
Ne thought of thing uncomely ever may
Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once seene these her celestial threasures,
And unrevealèd pleasures,
Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing,
That al the woods should answer, and your echo ring.

Open the temple gates unto my love,
Open them wide that she may enter in,
And all the postes adorne as doth behove,
And all the pillours deck with girlands trim,
For to receyve this Saynt with honour dew,
That commeth in to you.
With trembling steps, and humble reverence,
She commeth in, before th’ Almighties view;
Of her ye virgins learne obedience,
When so ye come into those holy places,
To humble your proud faces:
Bring her up to th’ high altar, that she may
The sacred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endlesse matrimony make;
And let the roring Organs loudly play
The praises of the Lord in lively notes;
The whiles, with hollow throates,
The Choristers the joyous Antheme sing,
That al the woods may answere, and their eccho ring.

Behold, whiles she before the altar stands,
Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes,
And blesseth her with his two happy hands,
How the red roses flush up in her cheekes,
And the pure snow, with goodly vermill stayne
Like crimsin dyde in grayne:
That even th’ Angels, which continually
About the sacred Altare doe remaine,
Forget their service and about her fly,
Ofte peeping in her face, that seems more fayre,
The more they on it stare.
But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground,
Are governèd with goodly modesty,
That suffers not one looke to glaunce awry,
Which may let in a little thought unsownd.
Why blush ye, love, to give to me your hand,
The pledge of all our band!
Sing, ye sweet Angels, Alleluya sing,
That all the woods may answere, and your eccho ring.

Now al is done: bring home the bride againe;
Bring home the triumph of our victory:
Bring home with you the glory of her gaine;
With joyance bring her and with jollity.
Never had man more joyfull day then this,
Whom heaven would heape with blis,
Make feast therefore now all this live-long day;
This day for ever to me holy is.
Poure out the wine without restraint or stay,
Poure not by cups, but by the belly full,
Poure out to all that wull,
And sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine,
That they may sweat, and drunken be withall.
Crowne ye God Bacchus with a coronall,
And ***** also crowne with wreathes of vine;
And let the Graces daunce unto the rest,
For they can doo it best:
The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing,
To which the woods shall answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Ring ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne,
And leave your wonted labors for this day:
This day is holy; doe ye write it downe,
That ye for ever it remember may.
This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight,
With Barnaby the bright,
From whence declining daily by degrees,
He somewhat loseth of his heat and light,
When once the Crab behind his back he sees.
But for this time it ill ordainèd was,
To chose the longest day in all the yeare,
And shortest night, when longest fitter weare:
Yet never day so long, but late would passe.
Ring ye the bels, to make it weare away,
And bonefiers make all day;
And daunce about them, and about them sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Ah! when will this long weary day have end,
And lende me leave to come unto my love?
How slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend?
How slowly does sad Time his feathers move?
Hast thee, O fayrest Planet, to thy home,
Within the Westerne fome:
Thy tyrèd steedes long since have need of rest.
Long though it be, at last I see it gloome,
And the bright evening-star with golden creast
Appeare out of the East.
Fayre childe of beauty! glorious lampe of love!
That all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead,
And guydest lovers through the nights sad dread,
How chearefully thou lookest from above,
And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light,
As joying in the sight
Of these glad many, which for joy doe sing,
That all the woods them answer, and their echo ring!

Now ceasse, ye damsels, your delights fore-past;
Enough it is that all the day was youres:
Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast,
Now bring the Bryde into the brydall boures.
The night is come, now soon her disaray,
And in her bed her lay;
Lay her in lillies and in violets,
And silken courteins over her display,
And odourd sheetes, and Arras coverlets.
Behold how goodly my faire love does ly,
In proud humility!
Like unto Maia, when as Jove her took
In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras,
Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was,
With bathing in the Acidalian brooke.
Now it is night, ye damsels may be gon,
And leave my love alone,
And leave likewise your former lay to sing:
The woods no more shall answere, nor your echo ring.

Now welcome, night! thou night so long expected,
That long daies labour doest at last defray,
And all my cares, which cruell Love collected,
Hast sumd in one, and cancellèd for aye:
Spread thy broad wing over my love and me,
That no man may us see;
And in thy sable mantle us enwrap,
From feare of perrill and foule horror free.
Let no false treason seeke us to entrap,
Nor any dread disquiet once annoy
The safety of our joy;
But let the night be calme, and quietsome,
Without tempestuous storms or sad afray:
Lyke as when Jove with fayre Alcmena lay,
When he begot the great Tirynthian groome:
Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie
And begot Majesty.
And let the mayds and yong men cease to sing;
Ne let the woods them answer nor theyr eccho ring.

Let no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares,
Be heard all night within, nor yet without:
Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares,
Breake gentle sleepe with misconceivèd dout.
Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadfull sights,
Make sudden sad affrights;
Ne let house-fyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes,
Ne let the Pouke, nor other evill sprights,
Ne let mischivous witches with theyr charmes,
Ne let hob Goblins, names whose sence we see not,
Fray us with things that be not:
Let not the shriech Oule nor the Storke be heard,
Nor the night Raven, that still deadly yels;
Nor damnèd ghosts, cald up with mighty spels,
Nor griesly vultures, make us once affeard:
Ne let th’ unpleasant Quyre of Frogs still croking
Make us to wish theyr choking.
Let none of these theyr drery accents sing;
Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring.

But let stil Silence trew night-watches keepe,
That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne,
And tymely Sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe,
May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne;
The whiles an hundred little wingèd loves,
Like divers-fethered doves,
Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,
And in the secret darke, that none reproves,
Their prety stealthes shal worke, and snares shal spread
To filch away sweet snatches of delight,
Conceald through covert night.
Ye sonnes of Venus, play your sports at will!
For greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes,
Thinks more upon her paradise of joyes,
Then what ye do, albe it good or ill.
All night therefore attend your merry play,
For it will soone be day:
Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing;
Ne will the woods now answer, nor your Eccho ring.

Who is the same, which at my window peepes?
Or whose is that faire face that shines so bright?
Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes,
But walkes about high heaven al the night?
O! fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy
My love with me to spy:
For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought,
And for a fleece of wooll, which privily
The Latmian shepherd once unto thee brought,
His pleasures with thee wrought.
Therefore to us be favorable now;
And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge,
And generation goodly dost enlarge,
Encline thy will t’effect our wishfull vow,
And the chast wombe informe with timely seed
That may our comfort breed:
Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing;
Ne let the woods us answere, nor our Eccho ring.

And thou, great Juno! which with awful might
The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize;
And the religion of the faith first plight
With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize;
And eeke for comfort often callèd art
Of women in their smart;
Eternally bind thou this lovely band,
And all thy blessings unto us impart.
And thou, glad
Brea Brea May 2013
Call me fox and I will call you Jaguar

I normally walk the paths
gawking at every creature I pass
squawking loudly, regurgitating my wisdom distastefully
I spoke like coyote
foolisly
I continued on my way, in hopes of a creature large and as fearsome
as fearsome as you
Jaguar
to strike respect and fear into my heart and my actions
so that my meaning would not be soiled by my uncomely behavior
as I stalked you for days on the forrest floor
looking, watching your muscles flow over your skeleton
in a magestically dangerous motion
You can feel me
in the place all creatures feel, sense, and connect
as one
there is unspoken understanding between you and I
oh powerful warrior
and I am to know my place
in the order
you are beautiful and fascinating to me
a worthy objective on my walk
you are a specimen of the wonder of the world
of the god-like integrity and compassion
that penetrates the soul
you leave the marrow intact within the bone
for me to treasure
for my mouth to salivate and consume in haste
but in awe of the judgement you pass
the power bestowed unto you without a single act of self rightousness
we sleep on the same earthen bed
we dream from the same deep sleep
we touch, our stories, our tales of survival
they reach one another intuitively
and so long as I mind my place
silence my ego
I will forever walk beside you, following in your gracious example
as we venture deep with in the forrests density
living vicariously beside one another
nicholas ripley Apr 2010
Compressed into this
Tiny space are the future
Boughs, leaves and flowers,
Random determinism,
Forrests from a single seed
(C) N. Ripley 2010
Larry Feb 2010
RAIN FORREST'S WHERE HAVE YOU GONE

Paradise on earth where have you gone

Over the misted green mountains where you once grew

Standing like ancient cathedrals bowering to the stars above

Silo-wets dazzled in your crowded light

Bashful colours  of green fade to grey

Saviors of the human race

Where have you gone

Fossilized from where you had come

Has fire become your enemy, man your ruler

Dust to dust you return

Waiting for the perfect time to rise again

                                                                       LARRY A STUART 09
Maggie evans Apr 2019
Plastic plates bowls and cups
loaded on recycling trucks.
You've had your party thrown it away,
Less to wash up at the end of the day.
But few fall out they blow in winds,
Escape the grasp of the recycling bin.
Not all bags are renewable plastic,
Less strong now not so fantastic.
So write a note for a new tote,
Handles far stronger less likely broke.

It's not our problem it's goods we buy,
There wrapped and packaged to the shoppers eye.
But when the seas are less serene
Choked on plastics and polystyrene.
Death tolls rise numbers of sea life plummet,
Dont ya think its time we do summit?
To a turtle or whale a tasty dish,
To dine upon the jellyfish.
Not a bag for life that passes by,
That binds them to starvation before they die.

So the seas bob in colour of plastic pollution.
Times running out what to be a solution?
Its high time we started a clean up revolution!
To use less packaging to educate all.
Before the tides continue to rise and we loose them all.

The ice caps are melting at an alarming rate,
How long before for all it's too late.
Eco systems absorb UV,
cool the world for nature to be.
Polar life need ice to remain,
In cooler climates to sustain.
But as they melt and tides continue to rise,
Am losing hope for their demise.

Leave the jungles and forrests for self restoration,
Less fossil fuels and deforestation.
The trees keep falling from constant felling,
With palm oil growing; plantations swelling.
Our orange ancestors the orangutan,
Has been their homes since the jungles began.
To break life cycles whole eco systems,
It's time to change the world with our wit and wisdom.

Else what do we leave to the future generations,
Man on earth just viral abominations.
Just a glimpse at climate change, it's high time we change our habits not their habitats!
Bows N' Arrows Mar 2018
Foggy breeze through my
fingertips when sunburnt days
seem coveted in memory.
When the columbines came back from the dead.
Burnt up cities...
The last glimpse of
firefly lights grew dim behind me
The trees sprouted everywhere like stardust
The pillars I once worshipped
in incense with amulets
became faded ruins...
The weathered walls texture
were like sequins with no glimmer
I escaped again to a place with green lakes and forrests of pines
It's quieter up here in the
mountains
Like a shudder through the
window
I hear the old house moan all
through the day and all
through the night
The sunlight pierces through
the blinds
illuminating his face
which is already illuminated
But you're my bumblebee
that insignia- a honey gatherer
If you subtract the intimacy
out of ***...
Nothing's left, but
hollow mechanical *******
Stealing the rythmn from
the music
Sturdy as a beam I lay
Unable to grasp at anything
It's just noise
Sweaty day, shivering nights-juxtaposed
It's like living on Mercury
In decomposition like a basket of rotten lemons
Past conversations crush their
weight against my open ribs
No parent teacher or friend
told me how all consuming the sensation would be...
Dazed eyes staring through
disheveled blinds,
I was dropping rose buds off the
second floor balcony in the night
They hit the scratchy asphalt
like a gentle meteor shower
Monotonous nights replay
the same phases
That moon...
A face splashing
from gibbous to crescent
Waning on my malady
Always stirring like a steady torch
Auroleus Aug 2012
Screaming Spades Scare Spastic Diamonds,
Clumsy Clubs Carefuly Cut the Deck,
Horrible Hearts Hum Hymns from Hell
With the Jokers and Jacks, where the Demons Dwell.
Twos and Threes Tear Through the Trees
While Fours and Fives Flail Franticly,
Free Falling From Far-Fetched Facilities.
Six and Seven Slowly Sufficate
As Evil Eights Eradicate Everything on Earth.
Nasty Nines Need Narcotics and ****** for
Terrorizing Tens Tendorizing Tremendous Tributaries
Feeding the Fifty Five Forrests of Fargoth
Rare riddles are oft bittersweet,
a never ending search for poisonous feed,
sand greyish desert coloured ****,
so many studies, not edible this seed?

Emeralds green in forrests deep,
sunken wood drifted apart and seep,
mortal words that never sleep,
in a city full of leaks.

cherished thoughts wandering celestial high,
whose orphans are these lost kids…sigh….
flickering fields, amish nigh;

shiverings on personal corpses,
numb of words, ah… stunts in shortest.

The words refused to be arranged as it must.
I lost my commands of the words, no, it’s no plus,
these words mock mankind as their playful lust,
sorry, now I can only say in the past tense:" Friends, 'twas....."



©  SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Wednesday 3rd June 2015
PF on 29th May 2015 -13.24 hrs.pm.
Brea Brea May 2013
I was once a ravenous creature
bit by the words of my upbringers
generations of lies
I was once one of those ravenous creatures
of whom I despise
but I've learned to find my freedom, without cutting all my ties
to the ones I love (I was once a ravenous creature)
to their love  
I've retreated into the deep forrests of my tears
in contemplation I've laid rest, all my compulsive fears
I know my stengths, but I also know my weakness
I am better attuned to this inner dialog, attuned to its inner uniqueness
I was once a ravenous creature
bit by the words of my upbringers
generations of lies
I was once one of those ravenous creatures
of whom I despise
of which I empathize
Caroline Lee Dec 2015
one
And even at night I still wonder if it could have been you
all those lightning bugs and stars we chased
Burnt fingers and summer nights alone
It meant something
Even if they're nearly memories now
And I don't think I'll be able to shake it:
The thought of you
Quiet and pressing like I used to wait for my mother's attention
I'm still strung up on bottled affection
Don't you come around me
We'll never be small again but I still live on your porch
Won't you invite me in?
Won't you finally let the light in?
And even though I know it would never work
I still talk about you to god and my friends
Still wonder after your wide eyed innocence and boyish gate
Still moon after blue lips and mud encrusted shoes
I still wonder about you
Memories of dinosaurs and changing leaves
Bath time and the scent of cigarettes drifting off your mothers hair
And as we grew so did the distance
Traded dinosaurs and race cars for new addresses and opposing forrests
Towering ideals of the oddity we call home
But even this can be bridged by melodies sung at tender hours of the night in your attic
Only we can say we spent the last breath of 2014 singing a madman's hymns
Only we can tangle as we do through fumbled melodies and timeless sentiments
And even still
I wonder if it could have been you
This is because I still think about the scent of your house and the way you sang.
How many times have I to tell you this?!
never try to love me without a bliss
this day is not yours but His

How many times have I to tell you this?
love me as I am and used to be
let the ardent rose keeps its freshness
and the soft butterfiles their pure cleanness

love me please the way I am
please do not change me to fit in your program
when the Lord created me He was full of wrath
I had to choose the divine roads to follow His Path

love me please with all my rights and wrongs
with my ugliness and my beauty of the night
consider that I am not that strong
as you might have  imagined with all your might

How many times have I to tell you this...?
never try to love me without His bliss
this day and all other days  are all His

listen to the birds in the forrests
all are bringing His message about all the good things
but never try to love me without His Blessings
to cling on me charmingly but without a zest

how many times have I to tell you this?
just love me the way I am
never try to let me fit in your program
without a sigh of His love in your  kiss

please let this message be as chrystal clear

never forget to wish each other lovingly
like I am doing now for All of YOU from me

A Most Happy Stay on Hello Poetry !



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Frst posted in Poetfreak.Com
on Thursday, 1st January 2015
dated on HP Tuesdayday 6th January 2015
#30
Bows N' Arrows Feb 2017
When I close my eyes
I see things.
I see flowers blossom in
my heart-mind
Fuchsias-
Incandescent hues
while walking passed
street lamps
Brilliant on my shoes
Universes surround me
in aquamarine-azules
Doorways to other planets...
hazy faces like photographs...
When I close my eyes I see
forrests and waterfalls in castles...
I covet memories of battles
in tarnished armor befriending
dragons
ashley Mar 2013
Somewhere right before my eyes,
encased in a thick sheet of glass,
holds an undescribable world.
One where no one gets harmed,
one where being yourself
is appreciated,
as well as accepted.

I've tried my hardest to find
this world,
but it seems as though it is
lost within the depths
of my imagination,
or maybe it escaped in the heavy
winds that cast themselves
upon the land;
or maybe it is simply
a dream,
one only visible when I
close my eyes.

One way or another,
wherever it may be,
I can go visit my land,
my own imaginary land,
as real as any other,
without having to travel
the endless sea
or the vast natural green forrests
of the Amazon,
or even travel
through all the clouds
in the sky.

No,
this world is easily accessable
through my own mind,
one that haunts my dreams
and becomes a reality.

A world where no one
can be harmed,
a world where all the stars
shine as bright as intricate diamonds,
where the sun
always greets you with a
warming smile.

A world of magic
and mysterious discoveries.

A world of adventure.


a.m.
S Smoothie Jan 2017
Lost

A breeze caresses
like the hand that is no more
memories linger

found

eyes meet in heaven
The earth moves with great spirit
hearts weave together


waiting

endles rivers pass
time swirls hopes of love then stills
Eyes gaze lost upstream

betrayal

her eyes beautiful
his hand on her like vines
her eyes beauty died

his hands felt afire
hypnotic waves of passion
end a once true love

reunited

thick harsh forrests grew
Between them branched a heart
Twas an olive grove

longing

across endless stars
hopes find little way closer
to the lost heart beat

Desire

Folding bewtween flesh
woven souls wind through valleys
the molten heat lit

romance

Daisies scatter hills
he picked one of perfection
tracing her gently
SaturnKnight May 2018
I think about you often

The reflection within your eyes
that would take me back to the forrests I would get lost in

Those memories we shared
nothing could compare

Nourishing my heart and mind until it blossomed

I would say how much I missed you then
Now, I'd say, I definitely miss you still

You are no longer here
I am no longer there
but no matter where
I will forever care

This is to you, my flame
because of you I will never be the same

I hope you picture my face and hang it on a frame

Maybe then I'd feel less ashamed
to think of you as often as I do

In my eyes you were a dream come true
Ca-ncer-us
S Smoothie Jun 2016
Memories strolling like winds
winding through the forrests of my mind

Past to present
and all manner of places
in between spaces

How near and yet so far
we've  come to be where we are


The whistle of a song captures my divided attentions
between rival affections

The birds sing sad love arias sound track to my phantasmagorias

Echoes of love's calling yonder

direction was never clear, should i stay a constant fear

The mind turns over
and the heart doubles back

Dropped my pennies in the wishing well,
I'll never kiss,
never tell

We fell like the crash of lumber

Across the span of time
ive held a feeling most sublime
It never ends, it never lasts,
how well you know me
Oh so well
And for us,
everything is
         all or nothing
  
      from
                the
                                moment
                                      we
          
                                                fell
JustHayy Jan 2022
His eyes were deep like wooden Forrests but he didn’t realize that those evergreens are the closest thing to a sheltered home for the wolves that run through them.  just singing to the moon, the only one who has ever heard them and felt their pain. And shown them light through the darkest and coldest winters. Guiding them through the changing seasons. The only one who saw through their wild demeanor, and understood the law and order, and Security the wolf pack had come to call structure was just an illusion of protection created with in the shade to keep them covered from the eyes of the unknown beings that cast them away or hunt them. Just as the moon had heard them cry again they met him. With the snap of branch and rustle from the brush the saw him for who he truly was. He wasn’t one of them. half wolf half man.  He had walked amongst the humans but he was misunderstood by judging eyes and too felt at home feeling his soul share secrets with the creatures and the land. Taking in the crisp pine air in with every breath he hadn’t realized he’d been hold in so many years. But when he howled, even the sun couldn’t help but come out of hiding giving the wolves and the moon time to take a rest.

— The End —