Last Commented Work Poems (218)

Who can they be?
Whomever they be
It includes you and me.
For poetry is the heart of our being
What we feel and what we are seeing..
It need'nt be real but does not make it false.
We can be naked wit,h no shame
light a fire with no flame
Be in love, never knowing who they are,
Wish upon a star.
A rpoet can hear the roaring of the sea
When the Sea is not around,
Hear the singing of a Whale
ause we know it by its sound.
We can dance on a cloud on a clouddless day,
slide on the snow on a summer;s day
we treat ourselves along with the world
In every word we write
For that is how we know
That all our words have might!

"peace! WHERE ART THOU?" I SCREAMED.
Peace said "Here I am, on the other side of hurt."
"What are you doing so far away?"
"How long the journey depends on you."
I am but a beacon of the troubled mind,
The white lining on the stony ridge of chaos,
Beckoning the soul to seek itself.
I am a gift you must seek me out.
But the mote is the hurdle you must leap.
So get jumping!"
"And so, getting through the mire of loss gives
You the practice of acquiring peace?"
"Yes, tap your Spirit to sustain,
Until the journey ends.
And loss and hurt fold into Peace."

dreaming in the clouds
a stag of elegance
one gracing royal beauty
an emblem draws peace
inside the heart

your eyes
dazzling smiles
travels inside
to a whole new world
leading me into
the promised land

with a sprinkling
of sweet smelling
rose petals
sending one piece
the foundations stone
to begin building
our palace on feelings

dream embracing beauty
soft velvet
satin touching emotions
caressing within
the crowning glory
enchanting sings
heaven's purest angel
the one of love

each heartbeat
steams this ship
sailing with you
closer into
the sun setting
paradise kisses you
in a spin
of daisies
one chain darling
draped around
your neck

i believe
in you love
as the sun
sets beautiful
inside honey
golden happy

From: W. Shakespeare
To: Propietor, Globe Theatre
RE: Roof Repairs

Behold! These locks I once did toss
Made wretched now by leaking dross
Upon yon roof the tempest hath tost
It's fury wraught, a shingle lost
Unfold! Now thy bundled tarp
Cast it upon the rent so sharp
Make hast lest I extend my harp
Another memo, a louder carp
Beware! The next shall cc the king
From the gallows then thy body shall swing
Prithee repair thy roof with care.
I go now to wash my hair.

_________________
Waldo Shakespeare, Tenant

been thinking of you
all day
my beautiful angel
you are the most
amazing woman
i am totally
bowled over by you

dreaming of spending
my life with you
was talking
to my mum and dad
today they said
i look a lot happier
just had to smile
you have made me
the happiest
man alive

you touch this
heart deeply into
the soul
in so many ways
just wish that i
could find
the words
to tell you

looking into
the stars tonight
thinking into myself
wishing i was sharing
lying under
the sky
with you

holding your hands
sweet love
smiling as one
a star shines
brightly in
these eyes
is you baby
the most beautiful
woman in my eyes
amazing you

He is my beloved, my firstborn and the fruit of all my labour. As a young child he was loyal, good natured and he never left my side. I cannot lie, I loved him the most and he was closest to my heart. So I gave him all my attention and though I loved him with all my might, I could not make him stay. Now time has flown, we have grown and there is much distance between us. He is a proud young man with a rebellious nature so desperate to see the world and beyond the comfort and safety of home, the world waits. One day, caught up with the business of life I was distracted and in that moment he was gone and now all I can do is pray for his return. But he is an unruly, wayward young man spending himself on everything and everyone to his own selfish end and now everywhere and nowhere is his home. Like the Prodigal Son he is a stray dog with no master, an untamed beast I cannot control and I am beside myself with worry and dismay! What must I do? This is the place where he is most welcome, most loved! Does he not know his worth, how vital he is to my existence? Should he not return I fear that someday I will have no place to rest my weary head and these empty mean streets will swallow me whole!
JS

A Franklin and a Lincoln
That's the money I had extra over a year ago
Benjamin Franklin equals 100 dollars
Abraham Lincoln equals five dollars
Some people are still waiting to get hired on
They don't get the extra money I do
They deserve to have a Benjamin and a Franklin too
There are a lot of people out there not getting a fair shake
They are let go with no fault of their own
They have to start over again and again as companies play their games
If we keep an employee on too long it will cost us a lot of money
If we can keep hiring new employees then we will make a pile
Where does all this money go?
Who is cashing in at the expense of these poor souls?
So I made some extra money
Big deal
I missed my rest
I missed my video gaming and dvd watching
I missed my peace and quiet
All for a Franklin and a Lincoln

Once we journeyed to explore
the Northern icy roar,
flushed with childish infancy
it ways ourselves to see,
quiet treasures there did find,
unknown before to Southern minds,
amidst some spinney green lit grove,
nature's splendour carefully wove,
where scented thoughts belong,
the noble artistry of nature's song,
now interned in a murky bower,
grandeur's fire now turned sour,
here, Longhill's jewel wrapt in cloak,
by stately Beech, Ash and Oak,
masked in all its misty gloom,
as a dying flower that once did bloom,
now eroding time of all that's left,
awaits the lingering pain of death,
yet fervently and proudly still
stands the monarch of this captive hill,
in quiet lines of beauty's grace,
its architect with care did trace,
and ancient man with mason's pride,
his sculptured craft with skill applied,
with visions belief as God adores,
like oft their fathers did before,
artisans, butlers, maids and all,
were naught but puppets to this Hall,
Alas! They long since have gone away,
alone, to life's fast fading day;
still, lofty trees stand guard the door,
their leafy shadows seemingly implore
some guardian fate, that fate may know,
with torch, to renew its fired glow,
With fear my burning heart grew cold,
knowing youth lay in some distant fold,
along with flowers of springtime spent,
Alas! Naught have I to employ,
nor sinful wealth its spoils enjoy,
but there is time yet to live,
an English heart it breath to give,
so, not whilst I breathe,
shall ruinous time conceive
the erosion or the fall,
the history of Longhills Hall.

Here reading some of your precious poems,
However most are missing the rhyming prose!
Rhyming is the challenge to a poem indeed,
Yet parallel words have to rhyme and accede.

I can take your poems and use each and every word,
Sure I can rewrite your poems with a rhyming bond.
Take your time and rhyme your wonderful thought,
Give essence to your poetry and a comfort fraught.