Life And Love Poems - Poems about Life And Love

my love life is a flash of television movies reruns and a bit of news it's all on screen and i'm the outsider looking in...

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they met, felt blest. stars smiled, friends cheered. time moved, life flowed. doubts crept, trust, slept. he yelled, peace stilled. she wept, distraught. hate grew, winds blew. both fought, for naught. bond shook, love broke. they went, love spent. ...

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What is the gift the Creator doth give? Providing a purpose for which to live. It could be the consciousness He gave man. The awareness we’re part of His grand plan. Faith and trust in what’s physically not seen. An eternal life, but what does that mean? Thoughts that come to us from we know not where. Caring without knowing just why...

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Each person grieves in their own way, processing loss is never easy. It helps to have understood early on that nothing lasts forever. Death is part of this life that's transient, the end never comes when opportune. It's comforting to focus on the treasures, no matter how short the love has lived. And what remains within the heart, enshrined, resides in there forever ~...

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Shadow Love Just follow, follow a lost life Grey walk, dark, shadow life Where? Where? Where is life? There is no life. Remaining dark A heart loved. Just for you Touch it. Opens dark love I love you Dark life ...

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Riding a beam of universal light. The heavens are luminous, every night. Interpreted through fear a blinding bright, Filtered through Love it provides great insight. Is it better to give, than to receive? First try it, then tell me what you believe. Be honest with others, never deceive, A life worth living, you’ll surely achieve. ...

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It Never Gets Old We do; It doesn't. The caring that fills the deep dark The warmth that flows From self to self The deep, dear chains of love Forged from a lifetime's memories; It never gets old. The march of our little history Revolving with the cogs of other histories Themselves moving other, ever greater histories Never gets old. From endings emanate new beginnings Change is constant, Yet...

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I want slow mornings, bread rising in the oven, little feet padding across the floor, a Bible open beside my coffee. I want to home school my children at the kitchen table with crayons and scripture, to teach them about fractions and forgiveness in the same breath, to let wonder lead the way. I want to be the wife who lights candles at dinner, who...

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My friend is the ocean, waters that glide, Rustling my footsteps and tousling my hair; Many the times that we walked side by side, A spark and forever, joined as a pair. Always a cloud there lay over its play, Dappled the sunlight that fell on my face; Heaving, its waters had something to say; Twilight with meteors it took for the...

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OF THE ESSENCE OF LIFE AND LOVE (Apropos Of 37 Years Of Onderful Onement Oneness) The essence of you, is sweet life and love; My dear angel sent from heaven above:- Whenever I find myself with you, It seems there is nothing I cannot do:- Yes, your essence is sweet life and love; My dear angel sent from heaven above:- The light you...

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Where Are You? The walk brings us back here Nice, this park, the bench is empty Where are you? I can’t find you You sit there, I imagine it I believe it, I sit beside you I keep your hand, loved your eyes Oh, fantasy! I am sick Continue walking, continue Alone, alone, alone… ...

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lilac h u s h of love ~ ...

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I saw you today, in the wild brown eyes of a doe. She studied me with an intensity I’ve never known. I wondered why she didn’t run away. I heard your voice reflected in the hawk circling overhead. His power magnified by elegant grace, and I was honored to have you watch over me. I...

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with a touch of rain and sun the lawn has come to life spring has brought forth times of growth and times to mow a soft breeze whispers to me there are times to love and times to be alone there are times to love and times to be alone and every day I live and die but a lawn that is cared...

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A Monument to a Murdered Love The walks with my ghost on beautiful mornings were taken. On late afternoon evenings, the walk goes to the sad night. “Sad nights?” Asked my ghost.“ I think the harvest was good.” Said my ghost. Yes, my ghost words always mirror the truth. His words, phrases, speeches, biography of life, the Titan. He is the...

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