"mellower" poems
Childhood is the sweet air of spring,
To laugh, dance and sing,
To give roots to be strong and happy,
And wings to fly.
Youth is the beautiful smile of summer,
A kiss and memories that last forever,
Enjoy the greenery of life of the season,
And sway with the leaves and flowers in the Sun,
Wooing,
Seducing.
Middle age is the crisp Autumn,
A mellower season,
When leaves are falling,
A change is happening,
Sweaters, scarves,feeling nostalgic,
Trying to bring back the magic,
Of health and well being,
A second spring.
Old age is life's winter,
Bare trees with icy splinter,
A need for comfort,good food and a caring hand,
A verdict of life,where we stand,
A reward of childhood and youth,
Middle age and its truth,
The last act,
Life's fact.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 3:07 PM UTC
Fickle
Done in mentioned light...
Through and due the common, the still
Notice of compliment, a comment of right
None
The more we save, from the proof of simplicity
Story's and a sulking tree, the seldom of fun in the sun
Turned to universality, with the eyes of anarchy
Amend
Sour and refined, refrain from the beauty of compel?
The pout of another gift and the choice of feeling's substance
Over the quiet since, that has become ours to weal...
Things
And the duty of a desire in worthing heaven, the hell of unity
Given me, and the role of synchronicity a resolve, to sweeten
Time is a daring host, to assure even the tiniest of needs, vicinity
Arduous
Threshold in the lime, the boding of every else, in the book
Staid and remembering decorum, like a hell is every cause
When we are the understanding home, to a willing look...
Force
Are we a stir of responsibility in the arms of voice, or its cope?
Timid as we are, the calling of it all, is a wisdom's source?
Look hard for a nature? when you can have a friend for it's love...
Caring
True to mellower stares, the throe of uncanny light
Made from the none, are we to survive a decision, so faring
The response of decency, that a swim with the devil, is also right...
Liberty
Loan the call, to me for a universe's song
Trust is a walking might of the deed, asking the seldom, evil's
Is it me, or the shade in a wishes stir, the tout we held all along?
Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 4:45 PM UTC
Dark and nostalgic,
like a cold atmosphere of night.
Brighter as glitters,
like the stars up in the sky.
Just like you,
beautiful and mesmerizing,
as i could see is your face.
Sweet and minuscule,
as i see my world inside your eyes.
It's pretty amusing,
like my aspiration and strange fascination
that i would like to reiterate
to you.
I can keep myself silent
but it's deafening like
deep inside my heart,
it shouts and bellows
that it'll make perfect,
to be with you.
You can be hard and fierce.
rough and rugged.
And if your love takes torture,
i can be mellower as what i see in your heart.
Passionate and reckless,
like obnoxious things.
but i can take it easy and simple.
it won't be hard.
It doesn't get any better than you.
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 2:42 AM UTC
Could I have said while he was here,
'My love shall now no further range;
There cannot come a mellower change,
For now is love mature in ear.'
Love, then, had hope of richer store:
What end is here to my complaint?
This haunting whisper makes me faint,
'More years had made me love thee more.'
But Death returns an answer sweet:
'My sudden frost was sudden gain,
And gave all ripeness to the grain,
It might have drawn from after-heat.'
764
Their gears twist and turn, cranking tirelessly
Round the mortal coils of a mellower
Art and content of games played wirelessly.
The game boards are awash with bellowers,
Slighted pawns too bound by echo tubing
Passed around to fortunetellers frightened
By town criers trying to throw heartstrings
Of lovers obsessed with burdens lightened.
"She is trapped and he the trapper," they say.
Shall he free her and see her twist and break?
Maybe that is her choice," but not today,
Or tomorrow or the next," he risks fate.
Their goal is obvious: parting those two.
Too bad their love is a folie à deux.
Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 5:14 PM UTC
one of the mellower insults of the aging process
is that things that were cool in your prime are utterly forgotten
if they’re pulled out of the attic everyone chuckles
and giggles at you for thinking you were cool to like them
even if they WERE cool and you WERE cool to like them
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
Trust is offended by gesture of offender...
Bottomless faith want the glaring optimist upholder...
Only the silver lining without any shareholder...
The only name to be written not intend to be a certitude holder...
The fired pit convicted the heartfelt borrower...
The festoon of assurance needed to be spark flower...
Reliances are now realising the imposter mellower...
Digging the never happened sureness by furrower...
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 1:44 AM UTC
Flashing hot in anger mounting,
Last words not making any sense
To me, you or anyone, present or absent.
Slowly ebbing as the heart beats mellower, more slowly than before.
What happened?
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:10 PM UTC