Lively words on tiptoes left,
Vanishing in the night.
In vain have I sought to find them,
Those precious prodigal words.
Did they slip away like mice
Through temples worn out by age?
Like jocks who rode the bench too long,
Have they quit for lack of play?
Or have they found me faithless,
Lusting after phrases
And daisy chains of impish words,
And in anger run away?
Fled they like southing swallows
Escaping Winter’s blight?
Will they come back to me one day
Like old Capistrano’s birds?
If a wordless king is a pauper;
And a well-spoken peasant rich;
And words are the gems we offer
To who the ones we love,
Am I then to be destitute
When I wear the crown of years?
For if my wealth of words is gone,
I cannot beg at Heaven’s gate
Lively words on tiptoes left,
Vanishing in the night.
In vain have I sought to find them,
Those precious prodigal words.
Did they slip away like mice
Through temples worn out by age?
Like jocks who rode the bench too long,
Have they quit for lack of play?
Or have they found me faithless,
Lusting after phrases
And daisy chains of impish words,
And in anger run away?
Fled they like southing swallows
Escaping Winter’s blight?
Will they come back to me one day
Like old Capistrano’s birds?
If a wordless king is a pauper;
And a well-spoken peasant rich;
And words are the gems we offer
To woo the ones we love,
Am I then to be destitute
When I wear the crown of years?
For if my wealth of words is gone,
I cannot beg at Heaven’s gate.
You’re a symphony in a sea noise,
A solution in an ocean of daily needs,
An oasis in a barren desert,
And a flowing pasture of weeds.
You’re caring when most don’t,
You’re understanding when most won’t,
You’re southing when I’m burnt,
You’re healing when I’m hurt.
Lovely you are from a far my heart my love and my soul lingers on to you this poems I write mean heaven I can't show but I can write to express what actions and words can't believe I have tried but nothing works
But you work right for my wounded soul when I leave
And or when you let go I would not let go
My love my heart lingers on this poem is all for you my love Mpenzi Mia amor
Together we can build our own little world if you let us be my love Mia amor this poems are for the southing of your soul and heart
The brown raging river flows fast
Along the southing flooded shores
Where once a younger I had passed
Those many long lost years of yore.
I am reminded of August
Of fifty-five: the great deluge
When the river was its deepest
And residents fled to refuge
From the continuous rising
Water. I remember houses
Afloat and animals clinging
To life with their frenzy faces.
I remember…just standing here
Gazing at this mighty Delaware.
Ladies and gentlemen!
Every man, woman, worker, student, cowboy,
Father and mother, young lady, sister and brother, boy,
Old professor - have our merciful freedom
In the noble and new flight of high dreams -
It is not a chaff ,
It's a high light wisdom
On the real big meadow
Of the interesting life,
It's a very strong thought -
To love them!
And keep tenderly
In all good and high - what
Is more good
Rule how to live and be happy,
Be always young
And have many children - maybe...
It is a polite and intelligent work
Of all who respect intellectuals
Not only their own talk
In the free and open society, democracy,
You must every day think and walk
Everywhere on the free streets, houses, pages
Of our citizens and their children of all ages
That study and work,
Have free time for their interests and talk
About the perspective
Of sporting, building, housing,
New life construction and southing
With children to be healthy on the South
And study in order to be wealthy
In the colleges and universities
On the West!