To Jill

Your Erin green eyes, piercing my soul at night. Beseeching my soul to pick up a pen and write. Your flowing Auburn hair, with a " Distinguished Gray " . How do I make my pen express feelings, WHEN I HAVE NONE, So Sleek, Suave, and Debonaire, how I wish we had some time to SHARE. I ponder with pen in hand, Where do I get feelings from: they must be out THERE I seem to remember, along time ago: I knew the feeling of LOVE. But She went away August 25th, On our Everlasting DAY. I know that I will never be a poet, for I can Never have another One, That can show me how to write, the true feelings of my Heart. With no feelings: No Knowledge of feelings, How do I write with my Heart? The emerald eyes: say IT all: No longer can you use " LENORE " as a wall. My heart hears the faint call: of feelings :Yet with pen in hand, my mind says :Stall. So many lonely years, so many tears I've cried, another with Jade colored eyes. Through her and her many Peers : Tamiviolet, Bill, and Charlie; so Profound. And the Great Matriarch Poetess : CAROL BROWN. I beg of you all help me learn to pen feelings, as I read in your words. Bringing to life : Clouds, Flowers, and Birds. Sometime I to Will BE A POET. .