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April Wilson Poem
"Thank you for being a friend", that's how it goes.
Blanche will fly whichever way the wind blows.
"Traveled down the road and back again", is what they sing.
Rose waits for a light bulb, clueless to everything.
"Your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidante", goes the next line.
Sophia shares her sarcastic wisdom, making rose trick a mime.
"And if you threw a party, invited everyone you knew", as the song plays.
Here comes Dorothy, intelligent and bossy, so set in her ways.
"you would see, the biggest gift would be from me" It's almost done.
The Golden girls bring so much fun.
"And the card attached would say" as the show portrays,
"Thank you for being a friend".
Sophia, Dorothy, Blanche and Rose,
for eachother, a helping hand to lend.
The show possesses what the song does imply.
The women"s friendship a binding tie.
A tribute to them as the legend lives,
Their warmth and caring continues to give.
April Wilson-"The Golden Girls"
Copyright © April Wilson | Year Posted 2012
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April Wilson Poem
Ex
Heartbreak
found new love
because you left
True.
Copyright © April Wilson | Year Posted 2012
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April Wilson Poem
Today I love you, and tomorrow still.
for you're my heart, for you I will....
Rescue you, and every part,
should my world crash down,
should I lose my all,
I'd take you with me,
to catch my fall.
Should my house crash down,
by flood or fire,
I'd take you with me,my soul's desire.
I can live this lifewithout great new toys.
I can't walk away,without you my wife.
of all things I've ever touched,
smelled or tasted.
The feel of you leaves all else wasted.
So take my house, my money, my car.
You're my home, my value by far.
I weigh my worth behind your eyes.
If I have one final chance,
to show you my love,
I'd scoop you up,and take you away.
It's within your heart,
that I long to stay.
Copyright © April Wilson | Year Posted 2012
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April Wilson Poem
My armor is diminished,
to nothing more than a paned glass,
too easily shattered.
My will, the only barrier.
The kisses closed, I dream open.
The delicate flavor of virgin musk,
screaming out at me.
My heart a puddle.
Her every glance,
a stone birthing a new score of ringlets of anguish,
in my mind.
That runs in panic with desire.
To hold her tenderly, deeply and passionately.
As a woman; to love her fully,
The same as I would hold her hand,
and she mine.
Fingers wholly interlocked.
Loving touches that break my soul.
And I have to
BELIEVE
I still have one.
Because it soars at night when it sneaks away from me.
It lifts her gently in its love; it cradles her in it's infinity.
It shares its cell.
With those ringlets of anguish she formed in me,
she gave them to me.
She gave them life,
and watched non-sensically as they rippled
across my flesh.
Leaving it rich in its own signifigance,
filling my mind with impossibilities,
and gluing to my soul
like papermache'
Copyright © April Wilson | Year Posted 2012
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April Wilson Poem
When the days are numbered,
and the end is near.
When we've nothing left,
but an undying fear.
When the last we hear are regretful words,
when all we believe just seems absurd.
When the sun stops shining,
and the air seems cold.
When darkness fills in,
and it seems we've nothing left to hold.
We will still have eachother, strong we will stand.
Just knowing we have eachothers hand.
So, when the end seems near,
and the light has gone.
When the words we speak, seem so wrong.
When we feel there is nothing,
yet know we belong.
That's how long I'll love you,
to an eternity, and forevermore,
Finding love in eachothers arms.
Copyright © April Wilson | Year Posted 2012
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