Most Commented Friendship Poems (1,087)

It is not because you are beautiful
Or that look I see within your eyes
Or the height of every wistful willow
That reaches so far unto the skies
It is not because the world goes round
And all the seas lap around your toes
Or the merry go round that makes you smile
Or that lovely crinkle you have in your nose
It is not because you walk with grace
And blades of grass bow to your wake
And every mighty mountain trembles
From the soft footsteps that you take
It is not because the snows will melt
From the pure radiance of your glow
Or the hunger of the parched Serengeti
Will bleed anew as you make rivers flow
It is not because you are beautiful
That the Sun shines down every day
And every blade of grass that is cut
Turns into the most glorious yellow hay
It is not because the world goes round
That makes life every brand new day
It is just because
You are you

I wrote to you, last week
About pain
Not yours, nor mine
But ours
For it is best served
In small dishes
And shared
Garnished
With feelings
Crowned with emotions
And accompanied
By a salted sauce
Of tears

When the pain was over
We smiled
And shared
A rich dessert
Of laughter

All washed down
With a bottle of hope
A cup of love
And a sorbet of dreams

I for one, did not miss
Your shadow as it crossed between
The two horizons that
Would seem to me an
Apparition of the past, yet I knew
You not well my fellow prisoner of
All that would hold us close and
Yet keep us strangers apart
For fear of a future that dwells in the past
Can only have meaning for those
That would not choose to live for
Today
So you came to me, not readily, but
With a heavy heart that bore
The consequences of a life gone by
And once again you chose the path of
Lonely existence for history would
Forever be your reticence, so like
The lonely Wolf
You vanished as you appeared, and yet
I would sense the sadness of your soul
But I would always whisper adieu
For some things are not for the capturing
And must remain
Forever blossom on the wind

Not long ago
I felt so all alone
I had no where to go
I would just wonder and roam
I came on here and read some poems
I then knew I wasn't alone
I read many of a poem
Some of them hit home
Some made me moan
But after reading all your poems
I felt like I found my home
There are many stores to be told
All in the form of a poem
This is now my second home
I've made several wonderful friends
I cherrish each and everyone of you
Everyday through
So I just want to send a big thank you
I'm not afraid to tell you I care
I'm sure each and everyone of you know
Just how dear you are
For each and everyone of you poets
Are like a fine piece of art
And all hold
a special place
In my heart!

So varied are the hues of poetic pen,
With a multitude of exploding coloured ink,
In endless shades to choose from now, and then,
To set the writing mood, into which we sink.

Should I decide upon a nature write,
I must select just one of many greens,
To paint a woodland oil, in verse tonight,
Of lush green branches shading flowered scenes.

Humorous poems are best presented yellow,
The verses to be sunny, smiling bright,
This Irish poet not e'er a dour fellow,
To try extract a laugh from you, he might.

To pen dark verse, one must use darkest black,
Printed on a page of sombre grey,
The mood is set, no chance of stepping back,
The reader with sad tears, may have to pay.

Poems to my Love, are always delicate pink,
Verse from the heart, her eye to see words beat,
Fond lines penned madly now in perfumed ink,
Extracted from rose petals, for a treat.

Erotic verse scribed in pulsating red,
Throbbing, bulging blood to end in balm,
My pen grows hotter with every word that's said,
Eventually burns to flames within my palm.

Finally if you poets e'er grace my home,
Feel free to take a seat, and ease your pains,
Relax at my bureau and pen a poem,
For it's ink not blood that flows inside our veins !

I leave it up to you poets..
Whom among all the poet ladies do
you think I am most compatible?

Wow! Have I opended Pandora's box
or what? Lol

I have a deep love an admiration for
all my lady poets to be sure, but perhaps
one may be suited for me.

You know me.
You know my heart.
You know my strengths
and weaknesses to a degree.

Soooo... break out the popcorn
and cokes and get that vote in.

This could be fun.

Yours Truly
El cafe-the-hairless- monarch

( A hundred thousand welcomes.)

A calling to our land of em'rald green,
I offer from the shores my open hand,
Sweet lady of fine verse I rate you Queen,
From forlorn eyes my tears doth stain the sand.

Oh! Come and bless our castles with your grace,
A love so strong as stoney fortress wall,
I long to see the wonder on your face,
As deeper in thine eyes my heart will fall.

And we could dance a céilí in the eve',
Our feet to float like shamrock on the pond,
I from your English kiss ne'er seek reprieve,
To fall in Gaelic love we would abscond.

At rainbows end a gift, as folklore told,
In Irish arms at last, my crock of gold !

When ever I shrug off this mortal coil,
My broken finger nails to lose their hold,
On pallid brow you'll kiss the embalming oil,
And your warm tears shall ease my parched lips cold.

I wish you to know before I'm lowered to clay,
Our love bond will always remain unbroken,
In life not once did we our souls betray,
Fond words now to remain forever unspoken.

Should ever you feel a breeze upon your face,
I pray you now that 'tis my lonesome breath,
Such haunting wind your figure to embrace,
I beg you think of me ! ...but not my death.

I once thought of you as I kissed a rose,
Oh! How the taste brought you so vividly near,
I cry you do the same, from still repose,
A single dew drop fall....perhaps my tear.

I always shadowed you like valiant Knight.
I'd rip steel doors down with my bare hands,
Should anyone ruffle your hair, or cause you plight,
I'd fight strong to protect each precious strand.

Hold dear in your dreams, memories so pure,
So as to ne'er feel lonely, my beautiful friend,
I would for you this day, death hap'ly endure,
Our love sacrosanct, until worlds end !

You know a man can sometimes speak
a strange and mysterious language
Yet, I believe it is the woman who dots
his 'I's and crosses his 'T's..
And for my part, I like this mystic
symbiosis
Yet, woman is much more than a proof
reader and an old haggard english
teacher who helps him 'make the grade'
She breathes into him the soul of her love
And man would do well to pay heed to the
vitality of her spirit
Put his hand to the plow and from across
the field her bakery lures him back to
the cabin
Though the sun beat down on his back
Her hands will sooth the aching
toil from his dusty flesh
She listens to his stories with bright eyed
interest
She believes in him and the wise man
peers ever deeper into the mystery of
her love
He honors her when the day is long and
when he sees the test of her faith in her
down cast eyes
She needs his strength too
His validation comes in so much more
than the warm fur he has wrapped around
her shoulders
She needs to feel his strong hands cupping
her face to be sure
But she needs him
The essence of him
Her man
I have found this
in..a few good women

The people i may never know, have touched my life completely, so..
The connection's that are formed, radiate with so much warmth. It's a gift from above. Appreciated with sincere love. A kind and written word. Although our voices may never be heard. There's nothing like reading a poem, its just as beautiful, as the sweetest song!!
In the debts of every soul, theres a magical possession that unfolds, a message connecting us
Interpretations a constant must, of the things in life we all share!! Our dreams & hopes even when dispared. Our disappointment's & triump's wrapped inside a few paragraph's.
No matter what our social status, or where we are from, on this planet. A tranquil voice, unheard echo's in the myth's,
is worth more than a thousand words...