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'''Dear Summer'' The Reminiscence Of Affection'

Louis Borgo Avatar Louis Borgo - LIFETIME Premium Member Louis Borgo - Premium MemberPremium Member Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled '''Dear Summer'' The Reminiscence Of Affection' which was written by poet Louis Borgo. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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'''Dear Summer'' The Reminiscence Of Affection'

Blue is of envy of that of judges,
That love that warms that a man of affection, 
Oh how it bleeds for society and play’s it short of necessary,
The question; is what ruins?
.
Play it by a flute to see nothing but corporate and disloyalty, 
To be amending just to be sited I call it just fitting.
Can you hear Uncle Tom cry…?
Then please why don’t you answer the call!!! 


Count your blessing that is what they would all ways say,
But I ask you why do we have amendments? 
So, 

I sight life, 
I sight so I write, 
Note king tides if you might,
"I have made all but one mistake",
As I take flight.

I say to a type writer does it even really matter, 
But never the less I never been the type to write. 
I am on knees and elbows but I write for tonight.

Look to sky for a guardian angel for my wife, 
For you boo I cross the sea and the ocean,
And stare death in the face, 
And laugh once or twice.
What seconds become of minutes…?

Standing closes to the shore,
Lord bring me close to my love,
Even if it just a note I’m missing you as I swore, 
I wonder if love can reach home only of we share a same star maybe that is a theology, 
But don’t quote me this early,
As I ask what will I have for lunch?
Staring deeper and deeper into the abyss,  
I Much…

Just second remind before a flood hits the gate, 
Morning more and more,
I pray,
But still I stand a man I say,
As I wash near to bay.

I dare to ask if any other man can make such a pledge, 
I dare you not, 
War is not love, 
War loves no one,
A request from a gentleman to delivery;
A letter to my fair lady,
What becomes’ of holidays.

Dear summer 12-12-12

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