Do not be a stranger come on and write. Your poems like flowers in the garden of life. When you are gone there is no sunshine around. So please be here because you are a wonderful scribe. Your words are full of life and beam with joy, these words full of meaning they often speak of God. There are Prayers, and whispers in them too. It is lovely when they tip toe around the page, that only you can write them as you do. So please keep them coming, we miss you.
When you are gone it is not the same around Please take my word to your heart, every poet is wanted, needed around, so please think of the plea and come back to us, the page is not as it should be. When you are gone there no whispers, no dreams only silence around, also no beautiful words only emptiness and sighs. Your presence profoundly missed so please reconsider and write. When you come back the sun will shine again on the blue sky, bright stars will dance and the round moon will smile in the night. Life has more meaning with you around…so please come back.
I have learned that Poems have a therapeutic impact on people.Poems have been recognised Worldwide as a unique Art in writing...Poetry is essential in any culture, and it is a valuable addition to 'World of Literature'... All Poets are unique and special. Thank you for your friendship in poetry...Peace...ZuZanna
As if it was a long drawn wait As if she is the known one The people’s sound And the sound of silence Pure pleasure of bondless Bondings That light The light of nipple flowers Upward Not in direction But
Again I wake in this wretched place Where the devil glares with grimaced face Reading my heart, stripping it bare Savoring the scent of the secrets there I’m slipping and sliding, the ice too thin Carefully creeping, lest I fall
Truth you seek, Character you weave The beauty you perceive, with the eyes austerely. Respect you earn, sacrifice and yearn Leaders you breed, Monarch unveiled. Mother, sister, lover or daughter The legacy you leave of your charismatic nature and affection
Walking in mental fog, you become a swaying tree. In mistiness one becomes lonely like a blackbird. Hollyhocks would wait, till the sun comes out. December rain brings the gift― of sleet on lips. ————————————– Walking in mental fog, you
Giving and receiving is bright when all the flowers make delight to brighten all the days sent in so many ways bouquets are rolled in different colours trailed with dressing of pink bows Hyacinths and Roses makes the most of