May I have a poem please?

Alone with a dream

Dream of her smile

in the deepest slumber

caressed to arousal

with luna's wings

Stare hard now awake

and see the sliver of white

look at the cold sky now

and the bleakness of night

See the shadows hide

in the light of Midnight noon

sit now in a cold sweat

alone in your room

Smiles can be cold

in the heat of the sun

night smiles are the worse

in the end

they leave you numb

It was a purrfectly good morning

When out of the corner of me eye

I spotted a thing quite amazing

So I smiled but the smile was wry

For there on me porch sat a kitty

A Cheshire cat of some type

For it had 'pon its face a grin

And was holding an unusual pipe

I asked did it want some milk or cream

Or purrhaps some Kibbles & Bits

She just shook her head and blew on her pipe

Dislodging a number of pits

Been eating some peaches, I see

I said to the cat on my porch

And she grinned all the wider

At my questioning look

And burst into a hot, flaming torch!

I heard her giggle as she disappeared

An unbeleiver was I

Until that moment a firecat

Proved she was real, so Goodbye!

Sometimes, letting go seems like the easiest thing to do. But think about this: you've invested so much of your time and energy into another person; you've made a solemn promise; and you still know there's love, even if it's hiding underneath the surface. This website will show you how to save a marriage and avoid divorce, even if you're the only one trying https://tr.im/VtHvK

Here is one that needs editing. Just penned this after reading that the two are separating. A title?

Maria, say it ain’t so

say marriage counseling

say separate bedrooms

but say…”We’re still married.”

And Arnold, well what can

we say to you, Arnold?

Mr. Terminator, Mr. I’ll be back,

apparently you won’t be back-

you rock of republicism

And to think… twenty five years-

a leftist and rightist married.

A Kennedy and a Nixon wannabe,

cohabitating, bringing forth more Arnolds.

We can only hope the middle road for them

cause Ying and Yang will pull them apart

I will write you a poem in music. I will start with blank sheets of music composition paper and use black India ink. As soon as I start submitting to YouTube, I will record it. It will be about 10 minutes long (YouTube limit is 9 minutes, 59 seconds). The title will be "Lovechild Firecat: A Tone Poem."

Beauty of face

she is that through

carrying well her grace.

Her unhidden charms

are known here and about

and often disarm

when she puts pen to paper, a stroke

not many deny

and many love her as really good folk

she has the charm to entrance

wake or calm the savage beast.

I for one follow her dance

through her I've felt pain and joy

with her I've learned

we are more than just anothers toy

She has become a sister to me

strength, character, caring dwells

she is far more than just LC

The wind,

weary from speaking tongues

through chimes,

and dodging raindrops,

now with a lowered voice

is softly plaiting

pecan tassles and

gently carrying birdsong

softly scented with honeysuckle;

while knowing that even sour wine

brings blessings to a new season,

it's the sighs of transition that

create new life in each day.

eh....I tried

shoobaday!!

(see ya later)

Every day is a good one

When the muses let her write-

But should they look the other way,

The Lovechild gets up tight.

Oh so many words

Just a-spinnin' in her head,

Her pencil scrawling feverishly,

This is her daily bread.

The Stolen Child

by William Butler Yeats

Where dips the rocky highland

Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,

There lies a leafy island

Where flapping herons wake

The drowsy water-rats;

There we've hid our faery vats,

Full of berries

And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you

can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses

The dim grey sands with light,

Far off by furthest Rosses

We foot it all the night,

Weaving olden dances,

Mingling hands and mingling glances

Till the moon has taken flight;

To and fro we leap

And chase the frothy bubbles,

While the world is full of troubles

And is anxious in its sleep.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you

can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes

From the hills above Glen-Car,.

In pools among the rushes

That scarce could bathe a star,

We seek for slumbering trout

And whispering in their ears

Give them unquiet dreams;

Leaning softly out

From ferns that drop their tears

Over the young streams.

Come away, O human child!

To to waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For to world's more full of weeping than you

can understand.

Away with us he's going,

The solemn-eyed:

He'll hear no more the lowing

Of the calves on the warm hillside

Or the kettle on the hob

Sing peace into his breast,

Or see the brown mice bob

Round and round the oatmeal-chest.

For be comes, the human child,

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

from a world more full of weeping than you.

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