Best Dedicationheart Poems
Salutations to all the poets
That waters my ink,
Those whose words never
Make my heart shrink,
Of you always i ever will think,
Standing alone, i could sink
So i grasped on your knowledge
That is without stink.
*=~*~=*
Phyllis Babcock is a raining day,
In her Motherhood, no
Hot sun to hinder my play.
Carolyn Devonshire is a rose flower,
Tender Mother and even from afar, her
Lightening Ink draws me closer.
*=~*~=*
Linda Marie, the Sweet heart of P S,
Is the essence of love letters
Her poems are like the good weathers,
Constance La France is indeed a rambling poet,
No wonder,her lines drives me to the point,
Doris Culverhouse won my heart,
She trades literature,
The poet Destroyer kills me
With Ink, a poet by nature.
Dr. Ram Mahta is a poetic chef,
He stirs the soup with delicious thoughts.
*=~*~=*
Heart dedication to all my poetic friends...
For your presence is like fragrance to my breath.
Gari La Buda, an inspiration, Richard Carrie, a melodious pen, Carol Brown, a steady one,
All of you are Lightening Inks.....
VIVA LA ELVIS
In Tupelo Mississippi, twin baby boys were born,
To Gladys and Vernon Presley, but sadly one passed on.
They named him Jesse Garon, their hearts so full of pain,
And then came Elvis Aaron, a breath of sweet refrain.
One heart beating for the two, their spirits intertwined;
To restore faith and hope and joy to dear ones left behind.
Elvis grew from babe to boy his heart set on a goal,
From boy to man to legend; The King of Rock n’ Roll.
He lived in humble dwellings, his Pa his Ma and he;
Playing his guitar, singing songs, pure golden melodies.
Country, Gospel, Blues and Jazz the rhythms of the soul,
And Rock n’ Roll, the very core of hearts both young and old.
While rising up to stardom, his pelvis did he swing;
Some church folk banged the gavel to crucify ‘The King’.
Their efforts came to nothing, as fans from near and far,
Surged on with huge momentum, to win that holy war.
So once again he stood there, gyrating at his will,
Until the day he heard a call that made those hips stand still.
Called to serve his country, the nation’s rising star,
And while along that journey, he sadly lost his Ma.
On the first of May, a bride’s bouquet, a blush of summer wine,
Elvis wed Priscilla; his beautiful fraulein.
Soaring in her lover’s arms on the wings of destiny,
Nine months later they were blessed with gorgeous Lisa Marie.
The happiness they shared together wrapped in melody;
Like a poet’s dream, a symphony, a lover’s rhapsody.
Then fate stepped in and dealt a blow that tore the dream apart,
And in its wake it left a trail of tears and broken hearts.
‘The King’, on stage and silver screen, he took the world by storm,
A real hunk of burning love in a GI uniform.
He rocked the house to loud applause, he played the matador,
And danced with pretty Hula girls in the Hawaiian sunset glow.
August 16, ’77 was the day ‘The King’ had died,
But forever lives the Legend, born on 8/1/35.
His mamma smiled and gently beckoned to her second born,
While holding close the one she’d lost that fateful winter’s morn.
The joy he brings to us down here can never be replaced,
Though many keep on trying in vain to fill the empty space.
His spirit fills all Graceland, to watch o’er kith and kin,
In the Heavenly sounds of Dixieland … I hear God joining in.
Elaine Randolph
Copyright ©2009 Elaine Randolph
It’s been a lonely journey,
Without you by my side.
I still cherish your memory,
That I’ve stored away inside.
You’re the love of my life,
The one my heart still loves.
My green eyed beauty,
That I’m so proud of.
It’s been thirty-seven years,
Since God has called you home.
And for thirty-seven years,
My heart has been alone.
On November 4th of 51,
My dear Nubbies was born.
Since August 25th of 71,
My heart still sadly mourns.
And on that distant day,
When Heaven opens its’ doors.
I’ll walk into Thy glory,
And be with my Lenore.
My tears will be of joy,
No more sadness they will stream.
And we will continue to sail,
Along a cruise of dreams.
___________________________
This poem is for a friend of mine,
who lost something special and close,
HGarvey Daniel Esquire a fellow souper.
Also For Lenore Ellen Adams Johnson
who is in Thy tender care...Raul
The morbid fear
in my heart
Was restless with
an unfathomable future
haunting my accursed life
Three years of slavery
alone in the dark
Shattered hope,
Shattered aspirations
A broken palace . .
Now that you are here
I fear nothing more than death
I pray for our union
A permanent HEAVEN
My faith returns
When I hear your words
The verse now travells
to my heart through the
Wireless device
I am lost in your arms
I imagine your hands caressing my lips
I am caught in
those love making acts
Sensuous and mesmerising . .
Tranquil and tantalizing
I pray that we meet
I pray
I pray
I pray
I pray
She walks with perfect grace
A woman with such a lovely face
With her sweet and gentle ways
She lights up and brighten my days
A woman who is so beautiful
The true and real perfect jewel
A lady who turned out to be so cool
I know her beauty will always rule
Divine madness is what she brings
By the way she makes the heart sing
Men would offer this queen anything
For the chance to be her king
I watch her now from afar
And with myself I wage a war
This foolish bard I should bar
From falling for this lovely star
I can see that a lot of men will fall
They will fight hard for the right to call
Might even end up in a brawl
To have the beauty that enthralls
For the beautiful Ellen Dimaano.
If only my heart wasn't stolen by ATP 30 years ago I know I would fall for you.
JEB
A voice perfection has conceived
Where once a fledgling had perceived
Divine an ingenuity
I now have found humanity
Yet pulses through Great Britain's veins
Your lasting boyish innocence
All I've struggled to obtain
A child's heart was its penitence
Of old perceiver, you are now portrayed
By cruder hands. Oh untainted mind!
Your rhyme and verse relentless time has weighed
Yet found have I a heart behind.
Form:
Sorry world
there is only one girl
that I can send this to
not by letter nor by phone
or what people usually use
but by my heart I send my tidings
and Valantine respects
from my heart I send to heaven
"A Valantine Regret"
No one here to take your place
that I could give this to.
But wraped up in the truest love
I give my heart to you.
(For April)
Form:
A mother's heart begins to speak,
As into this world her child she sees,
And from that moment this beating heart,
Gives out its love and so much more.
A mother's hart has the courage to fight,
And confronts those who do us harm,
A heart which protects us at all costs,
And puts our happiness ahead of its own.
A mother's heart is made out of love,
Constant and eternal,
Present and fair,
From the very beginning we feel it there.
O you naïve heart why do you crave?
For another life and claim you are brave,
Voice your limits in your path of recreation,
And let the greedy colors fade,
Less is the want of your breath my lady,
Less is the shine of your spade.
O you friendly intruder you mustn’t listen to what they say,
For know not they my dreamy dreams,
Are only puddles in the way,
In danger am I and patience erased,
When enters your supervision in my heart to play,
Less was the want of my depth my holy,
Less was the shine of my rage,
Why not then o my heart of hearts, believe?
In the darkness of my shadow,
And own a gem so rare?
Why not then hurry and leave?
In the silence of my boat,
Away from dreams beyond repair.
Tempting and inviting need not be your proposal,
Wish as you may,
I shall bathe in the darkness of your shadow or,
Sail in the silence of your boat,
But doomed I shall be if exchanged,
Your priceless gem for my dreamy dreams at your disposal.
Born of ancient, noble exultation.
A lotus among uncountable weeds.
Speaking the dwindling language
of a dying population.
Her blessings have been polluted
in the churn of Calcutta’s filthy streets.
Scorned for an unwavering quest for love,
where the exchange of rupees blacken hands.
A glorious heart resides within,
unyielding to societies chains.
Bars of confinement to her yearnings
still the demands of life’s passions.
In the silent, cool night she weeps,
for a world lost in loveless slavery.
Her heart victim to the masses.
A restless pillar fighting defiled conformity.
Justice has not found her bedpost.
Societies eyes cry not for the weak.
Deepening insomnia displaces all dreams.
The smothering hands of tradition imprison.
But a new path has opened.
Where love and compassion breed equality,
and caste crumbles upon fertile ground.
Shining a light on a new horizon.
May Krishna grant her the power.
To make the leap to higher ground.
Where unleashed love and passion
blossom in liberty’s eternal sunshine.
He walks through the deserts of time,
Raising his voice for life's prime,
Sharing and converting,his words do rhyme,
As he selflessly serves without seeking a dime,
He hopes to help pay sin's fine,
Leaving our heart's bell to chime,
He works with an eye single to God's glory,
Travailing and putting to rest life's worry,
For stiff necked persons his heart feels sorry,
As he hopes to share salvation's story,
He returns to his maker bitting death's cherry,
As he rests peacefully in eternity's lorry,
His word still echoes in my mind,
Assuring I'm not left behind,
The feeling of pride I must decline,
For my maker's hand I must find,
My heart and that of my maker he seemed to bind,
Breaking its coldness,atonement's contract was signed,
On my knees he has left me thinking,
Pondering on life as time keeps ticking,
Right from wrong I'm left picking,
As righteousness's light shines,upon decisions flicking,
Resolved I shall stay, as temptations keep pricking,
For I seek to return by my savior's biding,
Today I met a gentleman
whose heart I could see through
He spoke of life with honesty;
from his point of view
I couldn’t help but see his need;
if to only understand
Why someone comes into our lives
and leaves this world unplanned
There are times we are left unsure
through no fault of our own
To figure out our destiny;
though it seems we are alone
As time moves on, there is someone
with whom we can relate
Something happens though it seems,
our soul becomes awake
Such is the case with this young man;
his heart was in place
No one has ever taken him so far,
I could see it in his face
The beauty that bestowed this man;
I’m sure he couldn’t see
For He gives unconditional and his love a guarantee
Form:
A Hero
by Johnathan Wayne Throckmorton
when i read the paper today.
i couldnt believe what it had to say.
my heart droped to the floor.
because a friend i lost to the war.
now memories are all anyone has left.
its like a knife right through the chest.
i cant imagine how some people may feel.
but i know its a wound that will take time to heel.
my heart goes out to all of you today.
i drop to my knees every night and pray.
i pray that the pain may go away.
and hope in our hearts he will always stay.
for the loss that everyone has baired.
his memories will forever be shared.
once again im sorry to all.
for the loss of a friend and better yet a hero to us all
Form:
My tom cat Ponch can be a gentleman
In many more ways than one
He’s a lean, handsome, riotous
Unassuming and street smart
His word is his bond you can be sure
He speaks his mind on time
He has no patience for pretense
He purrs and purrs until I stir
So cajoling he can be
My tom cat Ponch can be a wild child
With a gift for verse and prose
He lights my furnace and melts my heart
He serenades with poetic words
He’s romantic and full of passion
And though not rich, yet I still will keep
His heart as good as gold
‘Cause he purrs and purrs until I stir
So obliging I want to be
Life without blood and tears would be pointless. Nothing to care for, days spent searching for
that something, that anything, to fill in that hole in your heart made for protection; the
opportunity to feel the virtues of being someones savior, protector, lover, friend. I found my
life, my blood, my tears, in the wide eyes of Her. Blood and tears would exit my body in any
notion of harm to my Her. Her skipped breaths are my life support, breaths I survive upon
richly. I hear her heart sing songs of love, and feel it pulsate beats of fear, for she is as
optimistic as the day before, fearing what the day may bring, but lives through it when the
sun raises with joy and no regrets. Her laughter shakes my very soul with a sense of
blessing, feeling blessed that I am the presence of such beauty. She is my will to do better,
to learn more, talk less, listen more. The batting of her eyes sets off hurricane winds, with
the strength of her being. But as strong as my Her may be, she is softer than anything this
world can create. Her hands are of silk and warm milk, her lips are as full as they want to be,
bouncing the softest of kisses of love when we separate. Her tongue tastes as sweet as sugar
itself, cool and comforting to mine. Her hips fit my hands so well, I never want to let go. Her
flower is one of the softest, most intriguing body parts of my Her. Both sides are equally as
soft as the other, too smooth to grasp but tempting enough to make me try. This is one part
that can't fit in my hands, but still I try anyway. Her breasts are as golden as a lions mane.
Grasping my eyes when exposed. A perfect slope to the chestnut breasts are colored nipples
that seem to highlight these mounds. They are as moody as Her, feeling velvet one week,
bold and daring the next. They are the warmest sensation my lips and tongue has ever felt,
hardening with every touch of my lips and tongue.
She is my blood, she is my tears. Everything I would live and die for, she is my Her.