Wows

With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
~
With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
~
With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.

~*~
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What a Rush

I want to write more love poems
and I want to do it soon.
I don’t want to write of heartache.
I want to snuggle beneath the moon.
~
I want to write more love poems
and express the love in my heart.
I want them to inspire
and be reminders when apart.
~
I want to write more love poems
and share one each and every day.
I want to write more love poems,
but to rush is not the way.

~*~
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Checking Out

Counting the days till days don’t count,
there’ll be no worries or any doubt.
There’s never to be a frown or a pout.
I could stay in or I can go out.
~
Counting the days for my time to sprout,
I’ll get up late with nothing to think about.
I can be really quite or scream and shout.
I’ll always be mellow and never freak out.
~
Counting the days to assume some clout,
each moment’s new with adventures to scout.
Destinations will be celebrations to tout.
The sun will shine with or without
~
Counting the days thought getting stout.
All will be friends, but for the lout.
I’ll need no maps and never to rout.
I’m never locked in or lucked out.
~
Counting days before the days run out,
when never a tear or ever a drought.
Choices all mine, all else to flout.
And blessings counted before checking out.

~*~
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Silence

Can you hear it, it’s all around?
The mind is still, there’s not a sound.
Eyes see there’s nothing new.
But change felt, the outside’s blue.
~
The darkest hours now muted.
Beating seconds, time’s diluted.
In my heart the view less shaded.
In my soul the hue’s faded.
~
Digging deep to find the light,
shadows shorten out of sight.
Echo’s silent, notes scream.
Good nights calling, again to dream.

~*~
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Edits

It’s a neutral day, no ups or downs.
Not many smiles but fewer frowns.
The vibrancy of the past’s gone away.
There’s little to color when mind’s gray.
~
I woke today, dreams expired.
Futures drag when uninspired.
When words the medium, life’s art.
I feel a need to write a new start.
~
Tomorrows verse never complete.
Pictures in the heart with time compete.
Why should I run when I can rhyme?
Exercise is always worth the time.
~
I’ve written of dying, it doesn’t end well.
I wrote of death, questioned heaven and hell.
I scribed my love but that got old.
And of course heartbreak, a story retold.
~
So I’ll collect my notes of yesterdays.
I’ll rearrange them in other ways.
And with my yellow wand I’ll wave my hand.
Then reappear to see where I land.

~*~
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Painting Corners

I promise you all it’s coming soon,
a poem I’ll write with no doom and gloom.
Spring will come and blossoms will bloom,
profoundly imagined locked in winter’s room.
~
Winters, like life, always end in demise.
Love again felt will brighten the skies.
Clouds will float and not obscure,
every breath’s a pleasure and pure.
~
Summer’s warmth brings the touch of skin.
Icy hearts thaw from deep within.
The hues of fall paint our ground.
A canvas of white offers promise all around.

~*~
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Morning Triku #177 ~ Random Waves

Beyond the Glass

My windows are closed.
The air cold and leaves fallen.
Yet birds sing somewhere.
~

Sticky

With the glue of two,
broken hearts can mend anew.
Or someone gets stuck.
~

Self-Love

Love Unimpassioned,
is much like one hand clapping,
every morning.

~*~
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