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Bjorn Wastvedt Poem
What is True Love?
If love is an action,
Where does it start?
If love is a feeling,
Does it come from the heart?
If love is a promise,
What does it really mean?
Without action,
Can it truly be seen?
If love is in the eye,
Can we envision its splendor?
If love is in the voice,
Can we hear it soft and tender?
If love can be bought,
What is its true price?
Will it have endurance,
And the quality to entice?
If love is in the heart,
Is it a flame within?
If love is a game,
Is there something to win?
If love is a person,
Who may it be?
He that acts from the heart,
And does it for free?
© Bjørn O. Wastvedt, 2017
Copyright © Bjorn Wastvedt | Year Posted 2017
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Bjorn Wastvedt Poem
Tropical Love
Colorful petals, huge tender soft leaves,
Intricate patterns, the type spiders weave.
Gentle breezes, smelling the ocean salt,
Embedded crystals where the surf may halt.
Bright colored finches flocking through the air,
Loud racket is heard from a hidden lair.
Rainforest splendor, how precious it sings,
Tropical colors on butterfly wings!
Georges blossoms in an Edenic bay,
Colorful orchids take my breath away.
Gigantic geysers spraying in the air,
Lava is flowing, too hot to be near.
My passionate love, as we stop to rest,
Relaxing in comfort against my chest.
© Bjørn O. Wastvedt, 2017
Copyright © Bjorn Wastvedt | Year Posted 2017
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Bjorn Wastvedt Poem
Thankful!
Dear Mama,
I am the trip you could not take, precious pearls you could not buy.
I am the frequent traveler on the plane you could not fly.
I am the cherished dream you hoped for, that would have set you free.
But I will always seek to remember, you did it for me!
I am the sublime world you wished for, all that you longed to have.
I am what you paid for, the many sacrifices you made.
I am in Hawaii now, the most beautiful place to see.
But I will always seek to remember, you did it for me!
Your Son
Copyright © Bjorn Wastvedt | Year Posted 2017
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Bjorn Wastvedt Poem
How I long to be like the wind,
Blowing softly through your hair.
A gentle breeze to touch your skin,
A silent whisper just to be there!
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How I long to be the chosen flower,
You pick for your crystal vase.
Placed in your lighted bower,
So I can see your face!
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How I long to be like a raindrop,
Gently clinging to your skin.
Creating rainbows that never stop,
And happiness within!
~
© Bjørn O. Wastvedt, 2017
Copyright © Bjorn Wastvedt | Year Posted 2017
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