While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
Peace of nature shows
how relaxing life can be
and can show you truth
(Dedicated to Folake)
Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.
Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.
May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.
Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.
Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.
Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul
at this season.
Equatorial island exploring its amazed
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next
Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma
Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.
At event of recreation, campfire were
Nobody around us, private moments
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again
Hand in hand danced with the soothing
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her
Expecting the light around us to be dim.
The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand
She looked too pretty in her gold lame
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!
Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.
Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout
life in this lovely weather.
Will be your shadow, because your pain
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry
me, my Kindred Soul?
Now I am walking.
There's a sun in the sky
Early birds fly.
in the clouds going by
The Apple PASTURE
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.
As she lay on her knees
surounded by the these brown clored leaves
she gazed up high
it was like she
was floating above
but a cold breeze
sievers down her spine
shaking it off
she picks up
a dandi lion
she made her wish and threw it
sending it flyinging in the wind
the birds whistling
she starts to sing
its not autum anymore
no more autum leaves
just a warm summer breeze
A slow-creeping mollusk
Belonging to family
Differing from slugs
As spring is born it bursts forth it's green,
as the living woods look so fresh and clean.
I sit by myself and I close my eyes,
listening to the birds as I breathe in a deep sigh.
The birds they sing a song just for me,
In a world so clam they sing a sweet melody.
Seeing the trees of every shape and size,
as they bask in the sun from the early morning rise.
Golden is their bark so rough and strong,
as their graceful branches are so lean and long.
Woodpeckers are pecking for their morning meal,
an inner peace God allowed me to feel.
I gaze off into the distance and spot patches of green,
a wonderous beauty of God's holy scene.
Winds blow through the pines as their needles sway,
as the whispers of nature seem to take me far away.
New growth is popping out from under last falls fallen leaves,
as the sun beams down energy to earth's plants it feeds.
Slopping country side as far as the eye can see,
as a red tail hawk flys so wild and free.
Scouring down at the sight of a new fresh meal,
as the stench of it's prey is enticed to appeal.
God provides for his creatures big or small,
he never fails to give or in need if we call.
She meandered through
new spring grass, startling bugs
shortening their lives, taking her fill
with grandeur displayed
solely for her benefit.
His swagger almost took him
airborne, his tail feathers spread
into a fan of splendor
his princely prance seemingly
not even a blip on her view
Our appearance on the scene
assured his utmost strut, trumpeting
at us as we laughed and mocked
his silly gobble
Yet his strategy succeeded
She now sits on her nest
at the edge of the yard
under the hickory tree, just beyond
where the mower runs
Petals as accordion folds swell
Flowers leap from each, bulbous shell
Soft pastels brim on hill, in dale
Of blithe spring bachanalia fortell
Bees, butterflies breathe succulent smell
To waiting nests, hives tidings braille
Around perimeter, birds twigs, grass bale
Thatching the twines to kindred scale
Under nests, in mating dances flop, flail
Masculine birds strut in bland coats of mail
Feminine birds in bright dresses chivalry hail
Lads, lasses swoon under libidinous spell
Love's sweet nectar their holy grail
From barn to field, musty odors sweet scents trail
Frothy libations stream from every, tapped well
I'm the worm Persephone’s minions found;
Blackbirds drinking from Apollo’s brewery
Warbled their songs into my gloomy bedroom,
For the Feast of Spring.
New verse created 6 April 2015 for Sapphic Stanza #3 contest
The laugh like cry of the April woodpecker happy in the early spring,
And the dry harsh note of the Jay, awaken the forests and everything,
The dusky wings of rook’s glance in the sun, they are so timid and coy,
Chased off from sown fields and hedges by the clapper of the bird boy.
Bees soon will be seen again diving for nectar in the bells of flowers,
Making a sunshiny hum of renewed happiness so contented for hours,
Men, women and children on the landscape working hard with spring,
Ploughing, harrowing, picking up stones listening to nightingales sing.
Others rolling, bush-harrowing or cleaning the drilled wheat for bread,
Breaking the caked crust on the surface with light harrows the clay red,
Shepherds, shifting hurdles giving the flock pastures the greenest of all,
People working in gardens hoeing, sweeping leaves from last year’s fall.
Peacock and tortoiseshell butterflies amid flowers they don’t have a care,
Settling on warm grounds or hovering high above in the still country air,
Such is April with variable wind and rain with a touch of very early frost,
Nightingales around calthas or kingcups near river places they love most.
A coltsfoot shows it’s yellow flowers on cold bare lands without any leaf,
Violets both blue and white are found as sweet as ever on their own heath,
A cardamine stretches up from the margin of a moist green little hollows,
Again the clapper of the bird boy can be heard chasing off hungry swallows.
The mockingbird returns in spring.
What it does best is sing, sing, sing.
Its sings of this and sings of that
and leaves no doubt of where it’s at.
It sings all day . . well into night:
grows irksome past that first delight.
And always comes back from its stay,
to that same bush, not far away.
The birds of winter soon are gone.
Most of them have now moved on.
And mockingbird with typical gall,
thinks it must sing . . for them all.
A busy bird it glides and swoops.
Will challenge one or even groups.
When feeling threatened for its young;
a bird-war barrage has begun.
This slender mid-sized bird of grey,
will be here soon; it's on its way.
Once again to sing, sing, sing,
To let us know it's really spring.
And late into each summer night,
once I get past that first delight.
I'll wish from on my patio chair:
It wasn't here, but rather . . there!
Thin ice fades away
Worms begin to stir beneath
Sprouted grass tickles ant’s toes
Fingerprints on glass
A blue jays nest on my eve
Babies sing its spring
Muck squash rubber boots
Rain sprinkles from heaven’s gate
Rainbows glow full bloom
Scent of white violets
Innocence blooms, babies smile
Sand grows in socks and shoes
Ah yes summer’s sun
Convertibles screech down roads
Trees awake leafless
Written by : Corrina Leblond
of an old tune lost
in bird song
Our apple tree is exuberant tonight,
its white blossoms flare within emerald shades
of our big cottonwoods,
and the flashing red finch descends
busy among the bursting white flames,
when suddenly, by a small boy enraptured,
it poses as the guardian halcyon.
Love in April is like this,
measured in flashes
of red wings in trees
and scored in lines of
molten sunlight, pouring
through our knotty fence
into the silky darkness
of our star drenched night
old man feeding the birds
he stands slightly bent as he casts
down the bits of bread
that the birds milling around his feet
devour with soulless eyes
he casts each piece like a sacrament
like an uttered prayer
his large brown coat soiled by winter
now hangs on his springtime frame
old man with his bag in hand
walks slowly along the fence line
the rubber of his shoe squeaking like a
he is amused by the thought
he feeds the birds once again
after all that is what old men do
they die slowly and they feed birds
they walk in silence like a tomb
casting bread upon the waters
like a prayer
old man feeding the birds
what old man dose not dream of younger women
what old man dose not wish he was young again
so the birds feed upon his dying wish
with soulless eyes
watch him walk into the city of night
with nothing but his loaf of bread
and a newspaper full of yesterdays stories
walking the fence line between heaven and hell
on his way to feed the birds