Blog Archives
Have I Told You Lately?
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Did I say, “I love you?”
Have I told you what’s in my heart?
In my mind, I’ve thought of countless ways to do it…
This knowledge to impart.
Do you see my lips moving?
Just as my heart commands.
Can I express it adequately?
Will you understand?
I know I must have done it
At least a thousand times.
Haven’t I told you daily,
Or is it all just in my mind?
Maybe then I just can’t say it,
Or express my feelings clear,
Then let me try to write it down,
I love you so much, my dear.
.
Life Styles
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Bright lights, music shattering to the ears,
Slick talk, designer dress, disco crowd,
Meaningless talk among peers,
Different life style for the young-at-heart.
Four-star restaurant, soft music, silver service,
Opulence to the tenth degree,
Works of art, big mansions, fine cars,
Wealth and life style for all to see.
Eyes downcast, ragged clothes, empty stomach,
No place for a weary head.
Cold streets, lonely hours, empty future,
Lost dreams, no roots, another day of dread.
Life styles of street people and drifters–
Whose dreams and hopes are dead.
Every day, same old thing,
Week in, week out, same routine.
Strength of hand, sweat of brow,
Make the payments on the bills somehow.
Year in, year out, rain or snow–
Life style of the workers who make the country go.
Vulnerability
This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:
We are all vulnerable,
But to what level
Depends on the depth
Of our faith.
Things
This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:
That which is truly mine,
You cannot take.
That which you can take
Was only in my possession
On borrowed time.
When Love Dies
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Words spoken in anger,
Forever enshrined.
Feelings mixed and scattered,
Emotions entwined.
Feelings torn asunder.
Thoughts agitated, grieved.
Words like darts, festering wounds,
Through time unrelieved.
No peace of heart,
Corrosive, eroded…
Flame burned out,
Tranquillity exploded.
Grapes dry out,
Dying on the vine.
Clouds blot the sun,
Pain heals with time.
Beauty of the rose
Fades away and dries,
Like love when it withers,
Is tortured, and dies.
Controlled Strings
This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:
Life, like a marionette,
One breath, one step, one day at a time,
Dancing to monotonous music, but—
Who controls the lines?
Love
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Love, like a garden, needs vigilant weeding.
Love, like a fire, requires constant feeding
To keep it in order and burning brightly.
Love, harsh words can often shatter.
Love, which wrong action can tatter,
But sharing and compromise bind it tightly.
Love is not honored by corridors of time.
Love requires daily attention to make grow sublime,
And words spoken in haste bring feeling contritely.
Love is soft spoken, building no dissension.
Love is feelings and touching, with full comprehension.
Many words often lose their savor; use sparingly, but nightly.
What is Love?
This poem, which I wrote some years ago, comes from Autumn Leaves:
What is Love?
Is it the twinkle in a young puppy’s eyes?
Is it soft-spoken words of promise,
Bringing a pretty maiden’s sighs?
What is Love?
Is it the quiet, understanding look in a mother’s warm smile?
Or is it the sultry eyes of a temptress
Who seeks to beguile?
What is Love?
Is it two lovers locked in rapture’s sweet throes?
Is it devotion or poetry,
Emotion or prose?
What is Love?
I’ve searched long and hard, looking for the answer,
Piercing through volumes
Like a hard-charging lancer.
What is Love?
Everything I’ve read or heard reveals nothing conclusive.
The answer is existent,
But very elusive.
What is Love?
I don’t know the answer–I can honestly state.
If you know, please tell me.
It must be fantastically great!
The Veils
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Layers of veils
Drawn over the mind,
Shut out light of knowledge,
Shielding hope from mankind.
The first one blots out charity,
It’s called the veil of “Greed.”
The second is called “Suspicion,”
And curtails doing good deeds.
The third one is “Jealousy and Envy,”
Stops our hearts from being kind.
The fourth is “Indifference and Falsehood,”
Makes people follow along blind.
The fifth is the darkest–
It’s simply known as “Hate,”
Yet the shining light
Of Love can penetrate.
Regardless of how tightly
These veils are drawn,
They can be opened by Knowledge
As night surrenders to dawn.
Ever so slowly now,
The veils begin to part.
Understanding rushes in, beginning to win,
Over the mind and into the heart.
At last they’re completely open,
Not able to stand Love’s bright decree.
The harsh light of Truth assisted,
And together they set you free.
wfosterwelborn 