Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 May 2016 Sara
Ronald D Lanor
Wild
 May 2016 Sara
Ronald D Lanor
morning incense
on a dancing
meadow

breathes an air
of rosewater essence

swept in a
breeze song
of gentle reverie

her dayspring
flower blooms
 Oct 2015 Sara
phalaenopsis
the sun.
a fiery yellow goddess;

and the moon,
her fervent lover,
her devout worshiper.

the moon is a silvery mystery,
with his brooding manner.

he only shines
because the sun graces him
with some of her confidence.

he only shines
because the sun
completes him.

these two lovers,
separated by space.
they worship from afar.

and the royal goddess,
weeps heat
down to us,
her unlucky prisoners.

she pours out her tears of heat
unto the world,
engulfing us,
in her anger and sorrow.

but the moon,*
the queer, shy, moon.
the moon,
her fervent lover,
her devout worshiper.

the moon hides behind dark clouds,
and only comes out to peak at the
             sad,
                                    mediocre,
                                                and stupid
                                                                             lives
we mortals live.

he peaks in wonder,
he peaks in curiosity.
but all eyes fall on him when he steps out.

he is a silver mirage of beauty.

the moon, unlike his fiery lover,
is shy.

he goes into hiding again
once all eyes fall
                                  on him.

sometimes,
the moon
goes out of character.
he gets jealous of earth.

earth,
     who takes all of the suns attention.

earth,
who's life revolves around energetic sun.

so sometimes,
the moon,
steps in front of the earth,
and receives all of the beautiful suns glory.
even if just for a moment,

the lovers are reunited.

but,*
space pulls them apart.

as the sun continues to lash down
heat unto mortals.

as the moon, the brooding moon,
continues to hide behind the cloaking clouds,
unseen to the world.
yeah so i was looking outside and... this happened.
 Sep 2015 Sara
Phasma de Oceanus
I feel the passion smoldering my vision;

I am enraptured by your earthly eyes,

And your delicate, bare skin against mine

Is the ultimate nirvana; it's an addiction.

My skin crawls where you have touched;

My neurons detonate, triggered by your voice.

I'm infatuated with the high of desire.
 Sep 2015 Sara
Sarah Spang
I think to be thoughtful
I speak to be heard
I write to decipher
The truth in my words.

I smiled to ensnare you
I laughed to secure
You slipped through the trap
That I built to procure

I kissed to consume you
I hugged to enfold
My arms close on nothing
You're no where to hold

I writhed to entrance you
I clutched you to keep*
Now the place where I hold you
Resides in my dreams.

I write so you'll read this
My hand pens the truth
All that I've written,
I've written for you.
Like my poetry? To make a donation:

gofund.me/Sarahquil

Thanks for the large onslaught of views and comments- I'm so grateful for the community here. You've all been so supportful since the day I started writing on this site.

Please follow me on my blog page for extra work and things I don't post on Hello Poetry

Thank you <3
 Jul 2015 Sara
Lewis Carroll
A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear
Pleased a simple tale to hear --

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream --
Lingering in the golden gleam --
Life what is it but a dream?
 Jul 2015 Sara
Lewis Carroll
Man Naturally loves delay,
And to procrastinate;
Business put off from day to day
Is always done to late.

Let ever hour be in its place
Firm fixed, nor loosely shift,
And well enjoy the vacant space,
As though a birthday gift.

And when the hour arrives, be there,
Where'er that "there" may be;
Uncleanly hands or ruffled hair
Let no one ever see.

If dinner at "half-past" be placed,
At "half-past" then be dressed.
If at a "quarter-past" make haste
To be down with the rest

Better to be before you time,
Than e're to be behind;
To open the door while strikes the chime,
That shows a punctual mind.

Moral:

Let punctuality and care
Seize every flitting hour,
So shalt thou cull a floweret fair,
E'en from a fading flower
 Jul 2015 Sara
J.R.R. Tolkien
All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.
 Jul 2015 Sara
Jack Kerouac
The low yellow
moon above the
Quiet lamplit house.
Next page