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Open Poetry #39
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themute
Member
since 2006-05-08
Posts 469
Maryland

0 posted 2006-12-17 12:23 PM


My ideal is to leave no paper clean and white,
To cover with words, —my only real respite—
To encapsulate truth, love, emotions.  
To rest with a pen upon paper devotions;
My reasons for love, my reasons for living;
Though they be one, for my life is for giving.

Yes, I had waited for long and for naught,
My love was a song that could never be taught.
A rhythm that ebbs and flows with the day,
Melodic and slow; she builds as I play.
Vibrant and graced as the strings of the night,
The tune that they play sings a song of delight
To the love of a native, entwining my heart…  

I might end up adding on to this.

I am the two-toed wanderer

© Copyright 2006 Matthew Patrick Holbert - All Rights Reserved
passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
1 posted 2006-12-17 12:43 PM


Yes, I had waited for long and for naught,
My love was a song that could never be taught.


dang, I know the feeling!

themute
Member
since 2006-05-08
Posts 469
Maryland
2 posted 2006-12-17 02:35 AM


we have so many of these: i know the feeling. i know the feeling of your knowing the feeling, doesn't it sturr so much in you to think: someone else knows how i feel.

I am the two-toed wanderer

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