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Prose Poetry Wedding Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Wedding

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

BEAUTY IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
It’s a common saying that is decoded from the look of a man
But of a truth, genuine and true beauty is beyond what the eyes can see
Only the heart can feel it
It glows with such power, even the ‘blind’ will perceive
Regardless of our status, rich or poor
Aboriginality, the language or cultural background
We all can see and perceive this inner beauty with the same view
One advice for my fellow brothers,
Always by pass the look go straight inward
And from the inward, outward appearance can be well appreciated
And advice for everyone
As you take time to make up the physical beauty
Create more time to nurture the inner one
For when you are inwardly ugly
The outward projection is nothing but a fake 

(c) 2010


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Kis

A Kis

RICHsTgPOOR



CharlaXFabels

1one7three3
 Do eye need a kis. Eye need a girl to kis. Eye have a girl that eye can kis. 
Eye have kis her in the rain. Eye have kis her in mye heart. Eye have kis her in 
mye start of every day for years of love. Eye have only to the kis to go to read more 
into kis to find the place she dwells in this old mortal frame of yearning 
dwelling place. The kis is purple bliss of alarm blazing love waking me from 
death like a Snow White Charmed young man a captive smith to Pocahontas 
fame. A dandelion flower lost in the caverns of the depths Ianthe drowning mee 
in sea ward tufts of left and right bouts of beating on the air to keep from sliding 
to the depths of drowning in her arms of love. A leap at faith a death reprieved 
from Grounded Grave a leaping portent making waves of Gragon wings. An 
attitude of love refrained in every tuft of wind again the sound of love the beating 
of the water on the roof of tin the sound of kis inside the wind and rain. A younger 
man and woman would have hardware in the way the nose and yes the nose gay 
and the corners of the vampyrific fangs. The center of the tongue is one the belly 
button too. The snooker table has a cue it’s called the ball extender bridge it's a 
cheater it’s made to let the basest man to reach her in the wind. There is so 
many problems with people the gas is oughta sight at the pumps this country is 
no longer prominent but a third world country going south. The end of time has 
come and arrived the ruthless and worthless rule in the name of god money and 
time. Take a number wait in line what’s your name please fill this out and wait. 
The number of his namme. Have you got a credit card or payment of any kind iff 
you can give me seven dollars for an office visit eye will help you the doctor is inn. 
The man was lighting a candle in front of the computer and the lieberrian asked 
him what do you think you are doing he said eye cannot see the screen. There is 
not very many rich people in all those cars on the highway whizzing by the most of 
them is middle class or less the plastic hose on the back seat is a siphon they 
use it to get gas. Eye had too many problems at home growing up to ever be a 
father. The age factor plus the drug indicator keeps me from trying to further my 
benefactor with fodder or with mudder. The morality of this hurried fable of 
dividing documents is this a kis. 

 
  
  


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Rose of White

Slowly dancing in the wind, swaying as to music
Rocking like a ship at sea to the whims of air and water
     Her face shone bright with the tears of heaven

By consorts of every shape and hue, this elegant lady stood 
White on white, her gown shown among those dressed in like manner
     Looking upward, she opened to the rising sun

                                                                          ~Christopher Thor Britt


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Nature In Our Garden

                        

Today opening my door to descent the steps to visit my garden
makes my dreams come true, my green garden enlightens 
my heart most of the time i spend it there, whispering with 
my roses, watching the very old green trees, watering the 
green grass, i love it. 

Suddenly my heart starts beating just found an envelope with 
white roses sleeping at my doorsteps, anxious to discover the 
sender, with a huge smile my surprise, it was from my darling, 
he wrote:

You are the woman of my dreams, I am taking the liberty to 
announce, you are my reason to live, if you are not in my life 
I will not tolerate my existence one moment longer, I need to 
become stronger to carry you towards our love nest share our 
hot body, love the love that will slowly put off that burning fire 
between us under our green trees very soon.
                                 
Lay your roses down, free your hand to hold mine, together, 
we will walk towards our green garden and dream of that day 
when our eyes will meet to become bride and bridegroom 
surrounded by the green trees everywhere, friends clapping 
so hard for us to engage with that beautiful touch of our lips, 
a sign you belong to me forever. 

Will you marry me my woman with green eyes? Oh! yes yes 
I screamed not realizing he is not here but a letter in my 
hand, the invitation for my own wedding, how blessed we are.
                               
The weather was happy the full moon lighted up the outside 
view to watch my roses blossom and maybe tomorrow we will 
walk together not only to get married we will upgrade our 
thoughts to the highest peak,we will reach our goals by living 
as one, we will enjoy whenever we can and endure when we must, 
we will not anticipate trouble or unhappiness about what may 
or may not happen, but we will walk towards our green garden, 
soon as husband and wife. 

We will not allow any obstacle stop us from becoming what 
needed to be successful, in love always, my heart was 
instantly beating towards positive thoughts a husband to love 
to sleep with, to cook, to wash, to wake up in the morning have 
our cup of coffee in the fresh air, i will stand by my man, 
no matter what.
                                   
A beautiful marriage in my green garden, all surrounded by huge 
green trees ancient as this house belonged to my grandfather
and I inherited it.
I felt like getting married with all those greeneries surrounding 
our guests i will place 100 white chairs on each side on the green
grass, and the aisle in the middle with green ribbons on the chairs,
at the end will be the priest standing behind a white table on it 
a beautiful green table cloth the chalice and cross next to the bible  
between white roses and greeneries. 

I need to sleep to wake up early run to my garden and prepare
the roses to share and whisper to me how beautiful they will 
become on that unforgettable day, the green grass will emerge 
to beautify their existence for our guests, the huge green trees 
will wave endlessly with the wind, a flow of some breeze.

We will be married as soon as he walks through my door,maybe today, tomorrow or after tomorrow.
Now we became a family with my green garden it will live to shine and
share the amazing wedding of two lovers married at last with the green 
beauty of our garden.

At that moment my thoughts tried to trick me in a discrete 
conversation saying, how do you know you will be happy? 
can you guarantee that happiness will exist? those were my 
repulsive thoughts, disregarding them, i shook my head
with sophistication a vigorous reply we will become
Thee couple in love forever. 

Our unique marriage in our Green Garden Of Eden was televised that day
a huge surprise to us and our guests by a close friend as a wedding gift. 



Therese Bacha                                                                 
 20/5/2013
              Contest for PD. Nature.. Win N0. 8


Details | Prose Poetry | |

True Poem Of Abuse

                                ~True Story Of Abuse~

Marrying her at an immature age, older by 30 years, 
arranged marriage by her father.
Abuse started from day one. 

Raped fiercely that night, screamed for hours unable 
to move, she dozed off.
Ordering her to get his tray of breakfast, in bed,
once in with the tray, he glared at her,
with ferocious eyes, snatched it, smashed it on her head,
the boiling coffee burning her face, the glass hit her head 
strongly, a mortal blow, she lost conscious. 

He held her by her hair opened a dark small room
threw her inside, and closed the door. Not knowing
what to do, her face hurting from the burns, 
the head bleeding from the glass, so tortured
she dozed off.

A bang the door opens he snatches her from her hair again
take her to the dirty old bed, and begins raping her like
a wild animal. She lost conscious, and woke up again in
the same dark room, dirty, aching, hungry, helpless,
not knowing when someone anyone would come 
to her rescue.

After a few nights the same procedure, she started 
fainting out of weakness. One dark night he carried 
her far in his car, she felt being thrown out, 
lost conscious.

Awake in the hospital completely blind screamed? 
where am I? mother please dad, her mum held her 
caressed her, told her what is wrong with her,
due to the abuse of days and nights. 

Sorry my child, you will be blind, disfigured, pregnant
but please don't worry, we will take care of you and 
your child.

Apologizing and crying. They took her home that
day, to her room.They left the room, she never saw 
them again, she committed suicide later a knife
right into her heart. Bled to death. 
Her true story as an abused newly wed.
age 16.

8/5/2013
Therese Bacha.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Friend True Story In 1981

                ~Who What Where~
A friends true story.
One of those days while walking in the mall 
I noticed a camera man running after me
asked if he can interview me about a survey 
concerning those 3 words Where What Who
concerning marriage. Although I am a reporter
I didn't know why I agreed maybe it would 
help other teenagers not to do the same 
mistake my friend did. I had to tell her story.
The camera was on me then all of a sudden
he asked.

What were her plans?
She was still at school the last year when finishing
her studies she was planning to marry her boyfriend
one day and work with him at his Boutique but
her father never liked him as he was not from 
the same country.

Where is she from?
She's from a small state living with a very strict father 
and an old fashion envierment, he always stood in her 
way never allowed her to grow up building her own 
personality he even forced her to get married. 

Who was she going to marry?
She was young and got married to a man chosen by 
her father only met him once following the traditions in the 
old days he was older than her by 25 years.

Where did she get married?
She got married at church the ceremony took place
after that as bride & groom they stood at the door saying
their goodbye to each guest some would kiss some only 
shaking hands.

What happened that day at church?
It was full 300 guests waiting for the bride in a beautiful 
white wedding dress a veil to hide her face she was a virgin
in her hands a bouquet of white roses, held by her dads arm
to walk all the way to be given by hand to her future husband.

What happened afterwards?
That day passed away so quickly she found herself a bride at
his home for the first time the night is here all alone with her 
husband very quiet man there was no champagne no smiles no 
music no talking only his routine ordered her to go find the 
bedroom change in a black night gown and wait for him.

Where did she wait for him?
She searched for a normal bedroom as everything was upside down
everywhere she found one with a single bed undone ugly color on the 
verge to start crying but had to hold back afraid went into bed disgusted instead of dreaming of a beautiful wedding night imagining how her 
evening will progress dreaming of love like a bride would be thinking of. 
She knew how unlucky her life will be since she entered his home.

What happened in that bedroom?
She was waiting he comes in half naked no kissing no talking no 
nothing but sleeping with her in a few seconds he goes off 
walking out from the bedroom to have his dinner back to bed 
turns his back and in a second he was snoring. 

What Who Where the camera man was screaming? your joking,
no sir she was not joking after that night she ran away from his 
home back to her dad and told him seriously what happened and 
that she wanted to divorce him and never see him again.

What happened to her since? Who is she with ? Where is she living now?
She got married to her boyfriend after a few years very happily married.
A joyful ending until she passed away leaving two beautiful well grown up children by now.
I as a writer and reporter i get motivated to write poetry after 
reading the title. But that was a painful story, so sad.

Therese Bacha
   2/3/2013


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Main Matrix

So, if a matrix is a body substance, in which all cells are embedded?
Then can I not spiritually say that the body of Christ is also a matrix?
Well, is it safe to assume or safer to not assume the differences in such?

If I have a World Wide Web with many matrixes, there must be a main.
How does one achieve the main matrix without a conversion of all matrixes?
Each living breathing organism has a matrix, but what supplies this?
 
Seems how all bodies have cells embedded in a matrix,
Is it not safe to assume that the universe has a matrix?
If so, where is the main universal matrix?
There must be a connection of some sorts,
Nevertheless, what is it and where is it?
Moreover, why has this not been thought of?
 
If the body is the temple of the Lord,
Then He must have a main matrix.
Matrix is Latin for womb.
So in which womb is this matrix?
Only a female has a womb.
There must be one that is required by none.
 
Now let us get even more difficult here.
We have a World Wide Web with many matrixes.
What if the World Wide Web is an individual womb?
It obviously has good and evil in its growth.
Could there have been two that fused by one?
Could there have been a conversion of all matrixes.
Or is there only one main matrix being a female?
 
Let us get back to the body of Christ and His matrix.
Let us even go to your own bodies matrixes.
An enclosure within in which something originates or develops,
This is what lives and breathes inside of you every day, a matrix.
Do we not develop Christ within ourselves, and He our originator?
Is it not safe to assume that we are the body of Christ?
Moreover, that we are of a matrix that has a universal main matrix?
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006


Details | Prose Poetry | |

LOVELAND

I can’t wait to have a love match

With you in a love nest 

Surrounded by love-lies-bleeding

Sitting on the love seat 

Where we hold a love knot together

And with love beads around your neck

After which we’ll travel down to Love-land 

Where we will be joined in a love-in

(c) 2010


Details | Prose Poetry | |

WEDDING AT THE SOURCE

Vows were taken, and prayers said, on that warm day,
Of their blessed wedding day, that fulfilled 
The dream that had been seen, and fantasies thought. 
And the Angel’s dress already bought, and nurtured
At the source of that Great River, River Nile… 

Her little girl fantasy came to life, when Andy held
Her at the alter, and the two came together
As man and wife, that bright day, 
That the church was filled with stars, 
Coming from galaxies both near and far. 

No tears were shed when exchanging the rings. 
And kissing when on glasses there were clings, 
She looked gorgeous before him in a gown of white
‘Cause the angel in her was such a wondrous sight,
As waters poured from the lake, into the Great River

They danced on the softest clouds of gold 
And began the promise to have and to hold. 
We’ll remember her veil and the long matching train 
And know how she looked when taking his name
And became Mrs Balondemu, at the source of the Great River

That day was be filled with joy and with love 
And heaven sent blessings from God up above. 
Sadly the day came to an end. 
But the angel now has a lover and friend
Fulfilling a love, brewed at the Source!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Neuvième Fable

 Neuvième Fable 
Neuvième Fable 
   
Tragic Love 
   
Internet Love 
   
L'amour pour les brebis ont des yeux est la même que iff nous wed. 
Les sentiments qu'elle me donne ne sont jamais remplis d'effroi. 
Mais rien ne peut rosée, elle me ferait jamais vouloir liquidation morts, mais la 
vie à l'amour qu'ils font le temps de vie au lieu. Eye pourrait marcher les couloirs 
de la mémoire et de vous déprimé ou des yeux pourrait devenir une religieuse 
coupable dans le plaisir et repos dans le couvent jusqu'à ce que la mort peut 
nous part de rosée de la mort peut donner mais ce qui me reste de l'amour. 
Comment un homme peut obtenir si excitée un peu au point vert en quelques 
clics de souris, puis une zone de chat blanc froid. L'encre n'est jamais humide 
sur papier mye frisolée encore là, il est son amour. Quand elle me sourit oeil 
sourire quand elle fronce les sourcils yeux pleurent une rivière de la stuffins 
conservés dans tout repose autochtones découlant de faire une faute de la mort 
semblent quelque peu à écrire les mots à la mandé coeur s'écarter de 
s'inquiéter et de malheur et de prendre le tout nouveau départ Et bientôt tout ça 
fonctionne pour l'amour. Blanche-Neige, elle a mangé la pomme, puis est 
tombé à s'endormir rapidement mais Charlax venu à l'embrasser et à vivre son 
éveil. Prince Charlax bons baisers. 
En direct sur le ruisseau la pêche de libellules dans une maison de l'amour. 
Mending coeur de charme. Faire l'amour dans le coeur. Mye neige blanche tortue 
pookie pochoucntous amour mon amour mon internet thrall. Nous pouvons avoir 
tout juste à tenir sur mes namme et de l'amour. 
Les chercheurs ont maintenant prouvé que l'amour peut réparer un cœur brisé.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Untitled 19

Look closely. What do you see? A white rabbit in snow. 
No? I’m the memory of a bride, wedded to eternity:
an extincting marriage. Draped in a pearl gown.
Laced to the throat. Dressed like some decadent uneaten cake,
ignore the teeth marks in the shadowed parts.
I was his bridal-feast and now I feast on white,
it’s in my breath and crackles in each bulbous vein. 
It eats me from the inside like an infection:
my white veil now my shroud. The crows gather, 
their pebbles eyes stare.

I’ll be the portrait of a bride, the hollow image,
slant-hanging in an echoing bedroom, the odour 
of rose petals masking the creamed bed.
Certainty can die in a heartbeat.
Search my lifeless, unblinking eyes,
wash your feet in their shallow waves-
these puddles can’t overflow, the wound’s opening deeper.
I’ll leave your moon-daisies in my hair and feel them wilt,
or grow, rooting themselves to my mind.
My skin’s the colour of cobwebs;
I could stitch myself together and become, in the right light,
a remembered figure. My veiled face could be any other bride’s.

But the stench of my clenched wound forces me to shut Spring out.
Numb the clocks, each tick the sound of grinding teeth.
Dressed to die, am I already dead?
He did not want my skin, the one that I gave him,
but it’s no longer mine; it hangs loosely on the precipice.
When in doubt, I loved; who knew 
that the skin could still bruise after death.
In this skeleton costume, the statis blinds.
The new moon watches obliquely;
If I am still enough he’ll think I’m stone;
he won’t recognise my newly marble heart:
the dead meat-organ hard and cold.

I fade and even the outline of my shadow disappears.
I ooze that white smell from every pore and it
twists my unbreaking insides into knots.
I am decay, all I touch turns white
but watch me yellow as the moon grows, 
beaming in the candlelight.
Give me his heart. 
This ghost-bride is owed a heart.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

End

End
WLM
Wildncrazy555
April 24, 2011

End of the line
For it is directly time
That we will be
Just you and me
The way God has sent
You know we were meant
That we should always live
And always give
The way we see
And it will be
Together forever
Through all we will endeavor
Our hearts are one
And will not be undone
Will not separate
In this time not ever irate
But hand In hand
Listen to the band
I always long 
That they play our song
Across the threshold I will carry
Directly after I marry
And make you my wife
For the rest of my life
The beginning of the line
Forever through all of time


Details | Prose Poetry | |

If

If nine lives are to be lived
I feel I’ve lived them all
Since I last saw your face
If a man dies a thousand deaths
I feel I’ve died them all
Since I last felt your lips
If looking is forever
Then I’ve seen eternity
Since last I saw your eyes
If the sky never ends
Neither will father time
Until I hold you once again
If time flies by
So too it was
With you and I
For the moments I held you
Were far to mere
There’s no place for me
That doesn’t hold your face
The sunrises and sunsets
Only remind me
Of the wind blowing through your hair
When I breathe the morning air
There’s nothing but your scent
Rising everywhere
If words make a man foolish
Then such a fool am I
For the only thing I speak of
Is my open heart and soul
And yours
Is the only voice I hear


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A ROYAL'S QUERULOUS DEBATE

The curtain slowly rises...the audience is spell-bound
by the appearance of royalty

Act 1, Scene 1

King Henry VIII: O adored wife, you never drew
another man to your breasts;
have I loved you more or less?

King Henry VIII: O voluptuous lips that have kissed mine,
when roses spurred to greatness,
is your trust in me flimsy or fortified?

Queens Katherine: Why are you asking me this,
beloved husband, if the promise
of that young virgin was more than true?
I have desired your strong arms around me,
to dispel my fears and doubts on many moonless and frightening nights...
when the northern wind ruthlessly entered in the chambers,
and blew out all the candles that were more aromatic than columbines!
O dearest love, which need I didn't provide you by touch? 

King Henry VIII: No, sweeheart everything you offered me,
but lust for another woman led me astray...
leaving your marital bed and sneaking away!

Queen Katherine: O dishonorable husband, what made you so unfaithful...
if I made you the vessel of these dreams,
to transport me on soft waves like cherubs' wings?  

King Henry VIII: Not enough passion in love-making, insensible wife...
permitting your guilt prevent the pleasure 
I sought in every embrace and intimate feeling,
to boost this amorous ego without ending!

Queen Katherine: How dare you say that, unmeritous husband...
while your attention was focused on a mistress?

King Henry VIII: How can you blame me, uncaring wife...
making me escape and causing me to cheat?

Queen Katherine: This marriage took place under the eyes of the  Almighty,
and you solemnly swore to honor me,
to love me, to strengthen me and to spend a lifetime
of joys, of hopes and sorrows through love and fidelity!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Moorgate to Temple, Circle Line

There is a man sitting opposite
In a red and black striped shirt.
His eyes are a little mincey
And his forehead frowns
Of its own accord.
He smells a bit like Christmas.
He is not a summer man.
He is married.
His wedding day was happy,
Many friends attended.
He was young and now he is old
And the wedding ring grows inwards
As the wrinkles expand.
His hair is thinning.
When he looks in the mirror
He is a little shocked.
But his infant depression
Is distracted by the smell of autumn
Leaves outside.
He is going to a lover,
He has that pretence about him.
But his hands betray some intelligence
Which his small and wonky nose destroys.
The best thing is
That he has no idea
I am writing this.
I don’t like his shoes.
I will stop now.
It seems awfully mean.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Uncommonly good.

Uncommonly good, 
This taste on my lips that I should,
Devour, delight without hesitate.
A cup of bliss that I hate.

Another round of wine,
A spoonful of something divine,
A kiss,
A scent that I miss.

Bitterly cold,
In every stare that we hold.
What is behind the mask,
A question noone dare to ask.

Knowingly,
It is more than silly,
But it's just a thought,
A slight detour I should sought?

Sunrise is peeking,
Time is ticking,
Oh how I wish I could stay,
Hold your hand as we sway.

Cloud is waving,
Moon is hiding,
As we bid farewell,
As I walk on the path I know well.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Christian Wine

 Christian Wine 
Christian Wine 
 
Fifteen Fabel 
  
Christian Wine 
 
CharlaX Fabels 
 
Most men reiterate the infirmities of flesh the scars so proud to show so scary 
but so worthwhile like Tom Sawyers Toe. The boys eye meet on the street hold 
up they shirts and say look so neat the knife came all the way across and then 
they brag so braggart the facts and get another illegal drink for most of them use 
the alley they are too young to sit the bar stool anyway. The seldom used door 
long locked against the thief they lean upon each other's arm in misery for one 
so young to fall prey to john barely corn. 
The eye used to drink it down convinced it was the best thing in town and let me 
tell you all it was hard to put it down but the punch line of my story is the sobriety. 
Jesus saves in different ways each person is not the same. He never changes 
but the person changes to fit the mold of HIS direction. The soups cold and the 
meat is not too hot and the butter never melts but eye am so happy not to drink. 
The wet rain falls upon my brow and makes me frown but somehow the son 
always shines for me as well and love is just around. 
The edges of my mind are filled with happiness her name is love she is ewe my 
loneliness is gone my loveliness has come. 
Rules for English words stop me from making rhymes and so the words come 
out so strang and yet she thinks she loves she moves the mountains between 
us and GOD is in my heart and love is also there from her to make me live just 
until it is time to die and leave her to carry on in Heaven to build a place to stay a 
picnic ready to be eaten in the grass of Heaven just inside the doorway. 
There were many people stories in my bible to read there was a Nazarene who 
never cut his hair it is said they never drink wine? 
He is drinking wine in Heaven with his JESUS now. 



Details | Prose Poetry | |

31Fabels

 31Fabels 
31Fabels 

 


Charlexes Fabels 


 

Androidone 

 


This poem is about me the JesusFreak Charlaxandroidoneseven. 

Homeless scrounge a little better than a thief my legacy is poetry as eye leave 
this world behind to go on to JESUS Heaven eye write and leave behind some 
thoughtful insights of this life. Snail mail was nice. She afforded me the bus ride 
that makes the life so much better than the walking endless walking always late 
no one is talking anymore of sending me my latter day relief. All my websites is 
always free my poetry is added in the hopes that gentile readers everywhere can 
see the JESUS freak in mee.   

As eye ride the bus eye see into the futyre it is bleak there is nothing saved no 
money towers castles laundered pines nothing will outlast the fire. 

Money is not god only in this lifetime did the eye even afford to use some eye 
cannot repay my source it all comes to me from GOD. You and yew and ewe and 
even eue too cannot repay the LORD. Bread and corn and silver too no he did not 
ever promise all of that to you but Abraham my father had some GOLD and so 
does the Charlax told a heart is given me in love she knoes just how much eye 
try to endeavor in my eye to give her love. Food Reported just TODAY there is 
some popped corn in a bag and eye am wearing brand new jeans again that 
makes THREE pants for layers but BOZO iz not jealous eye look just okay and 
very nice today I'm eating bread no wine sober is the man in love iff she is 
reading this one see her smile it is enought for love to win the time to return to 
heart to make her remember love. We have the same heart in the same place in 
the same body and when she smiles at me the world turns right side up and 
upside down. Nothing is perfect and nothing is without problems but ewe she is 
perfectly in mine. 
eye am cutting all my fabels in the halve this is part one


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My One & Only

This is Being Written For A Very Special Girl, A Lady Who Means the Whole Wide World To Me.
And As You Read Between The Lines Of Mines You'll Find that My Heart Belongs to You 
Completely.So Look No Futher For Your Search Is Over This Man Loves You  A Million Times 
More Than Casanova. Romeo Ain't Got Nothing On me.Cause Ive Pledged My Love, My 
Heart,My Mind, MY Body And Soul to You Completely. To See You Smile Makes My Heartbeat 
Go wild and To Hear You SaY You love Me ,Sounds More Beautiful Than any Love Song Ever 
Created In History!Living without You is Driving Me Crazy and I hope The Feelings Are Mutual 
and You love me To Baby!! I would Lay My Life On the Line For You, I would Even Die For You If 
I Had to Now and forever. Because I've Dedicated my Heart To You For Eternity!!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Undying Love

As I was sitting Here Just contemplating about us, I 
found myself totally loving you unconditional, fully 
and completely. I cant wait for the moment to come when
im finally able to gaze into you're beautiful loving 
eyes and fully express all of my love for you. In Which
I harbor inside of me. On that Day I'll Gently kiss you
upon your sweet sensual Lips and tenderly enfold you 
within my loving arms and ever so softly whisper into
Your ear all of my hearts piece of mind,so that you'll
know within your heart, your mind, your body and soul 
that I really do love You and I'll never ever let 
You go...never!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

31Fabel Part two

31fabel this is part two please read part one first

All Hail the Power of JESUS name a  song on you tube a great refrain the ewe is 
so sublime she loves my lord she loves the SON as much as eye. Healthy is a 
term designed to fool the masses in a hopeless mess of ashes a world 
destroyed by fire imagine holding on to preconceived ideas and religious 
gnashes biting thorns of crackers smallish pieces of the breaded JESUS come 
and ruin all decay in me today and fill my love with healthy life and let her live and 
bless herself amen and take all my nerves and mend them without whiskey let 
me win the battle is now mine the end in sight the day is come the walls of 
Jericho are falling all around. 

We both like Fogarty the singer of the creedence song. 

We both like dandelions' how they come apart. We both like dragonflies the 
wings so far apart. Rain in the summer love in the winter life in the spring. 

The little silver color in the box. The happy that we do when we talk man and wife. 
The prayers that come to the mind unbidden as we talk yearning just for kisses 
yearning just for time to love. A robot heart hidden in a real love an android one 
charlax seven molded in the form of a CREEDENCE song. Without an ending a 
poem never stops in side of heaven is my love she it is that rules me lets me 
love. A wonderful purple flower hidden in a tall tree it is she. This is charlax seven 
android one.