Best Placessweet Poems
Summers sweet escape lost within the confines
of it's heat.
So many stories can be confessed from the
backseat.
Parked in a place many recall the point.
Sweat and passion mix.
We all existed once as fools.
Telling stories passing a joint.
Empty beer bottles near a still warm fire.
Vision of a naked body any artist can admire.
In a place where new loves come to spark and die.
Fond memories to perfect to regret.
So why even try.
Tossed togather in new feelings something
more than comfort we did seek.
Trying to discover another side.
Taking that first peak.
Over the seat's in the middle she does rise.
For that first taste.
Hearts break young first love"s
and the bitter sweet lies.
that old point will once again be there to use.
Tales of conquests past lure
all to the backseat blues.
My spirit longs to go where the poco drums play
And mother start gyrating and tumble at my feet
My spirit long wrapped in pointed turban to sway
And feel my heart frolicking to each drumbeat.
Then the shepherd looking in a clear glass of water
Would tell of sweet times and disaster
Where we live on the hilly brow of laughter
In strong souls like pigeons in a rafter.
You do not understand, you cannot comprehend
How bondaged by the barren beauty of her breast
The soul comes to it senses and repentance, send
Quivers through a man, full of tiredness.
But when the shepherd twirls his flag, spin our roles
And echo strange tongues without translation
One can almost believe Africa where the sweet Nile rolls
Is home again, and there was no separation.
My spirit long for things, for ancient things where
Pocomania is the door, and mother on the floor
Have left us in her trance, swimming in waters clear
Rising and singing, singing and rising evermore
To the celestial strands. Wake me for I dream
From under the otaheite tree, this is Jamaica
Magnificient her tropic wonders gleam
Wher pocomania opens mystic doors to Africa.
The fragrance of roses always in bloom
The softness of a summer's eve in June
Colors not known by the human eye
Clearest of blue is the Heaven sky
Fields of clover with four leafs of all
Trees of every color with leafs that never fall
Flowers that cover a million rolling hills
From the lazy daisy to the laughing daffodil
Berries and fruits so sweet and delicious
Veggies and herbs tasty and nutritious
With crystal clear streams emptying into a sea of dreams
And a sunny radiance from His Glorious Being
Velvelt grass for bare feet to walk upon
Dazzling birds fill the air with song
Every animal in contempt and peace
The lamb fears the lion not in the least
The morning dew washes all with drink
The happy old elm welcomes one to sit and think
Bushes and shrubs of every shape and size
Lushes foliage for cherubim to seek and hide
A place to relax on the Day of Rest
Angels and saved souls enjoy it's bliss
Lemons that are sweet and sunny
It is a land flowing of milk and honey
Once Saint Peter lets you through Heaven's Gate
The brilliance of Paradise has but one place to escape
I'm not complaining so I beg your pardon
But a day of Bliss is spent in Heaven's Garden