Poems About Love
What is so special about a little child;
a seed, that’s become a sprout;
not meant to remain a flower so wild;
inner wisdom will soon win out.
Overcoming a period of gestation;
a baby, has now left the womb;
ordained for a life of frustration;
then, destined for
I am a part of the river of life;
carving destiny out of rock;
sorrows destined to be a wife;
my waters approaching a dock.
Success was not meant as a goal;
it was only a part of the path;
failure has really an equal role;
love overcoming our wrath.
There is a pain, only God can heal;
emotionally kicked in the shin;
so deep within; that I cannot reveal;
I don’t even know where to begin.
A mind is drawn in search of recovery;
but, recovery cannot be found;
gouged by the injury of discovery;
and peace can
I lapsed into sleep; though still awake;
and reality’s being, hastily flashed on;
totally confused by reality’s mistake;
it seemed I had entered a new dawn.
I found myself in another place;
not quite realizing where I was;
somewhere, within thought’s space;
I had become there, just
There was something magical about your face;
something I could never explain;
the warmth of your lips that I sought to embrace;
and nothing of the past could remain.
It wasn’t about your shape or appearance;
for, sheer energy had taken control;
and logic was unable to add interference;
We sometimes speak of emotions, bottled;
for it seems that we hold them inside;
eventually, to the point, tears are throttled;
not allowing our tears to confide.
Tears are the river of life, for emotions;
granting them the power to live;
repressing anger and guilt into oceans;
tears help us
It seems, we’ve left Thought behind;
kissing became a predominant role;
if true reality is Thought and its mind;
then, Love is entanglement of the soul.
All our souls are eternally connected;
an energy bond, will forever exist;
by the Master’s will, each is protected;
and the Master’
Destiny is reality’s completed book;
not allowing any revisions;
errant thoughts; all were forsook;
for, thought, made all decisions.
Destiny was reality, infinitely completed;
its book was exchanged for a play;
only by death, were some things deleted;
and the stage of Light, became day.
Light cast down the
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