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the word whisperer

Friday, March 24, 2006

Red Tulips

Red tulips blooming in the field
They sway ever so slightly
Whispering secrets of beauty
So only the swooping swallows
Hear them and sing to the wind...
Flowers of love - memories cherished -
Will always be dancing amidst
Red tulips - friends forevermore.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

The Question

All right... Just one more poem that I wrote in February. It kind of started after I watched a couple of Jane Austen based movies, like Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Sense and Sensibility, etc. all that good, healthy stuff about love. "wink wink" "rolls eyes" Here are my personal views on the subject...



Each man who holds my hand
I ask a simple question:
"Pray, tell me, what is Love?"

One says it is a song
Of Beauty and her flower
That never withers up;
Another calls it Lust
And gently strokes my neck
Whispering sweet phrases;
The third declares that Love
Is God Himself when living
Within the heart of man.

I ask a dozen more
And get twelve different lectures,
Including shoulder shrugs –
They all see Love as hard
to understand in truth,
Yet, it is so simple
When they do not veil it
With fifty silken scarves
And thirty-three perfumes!

The man who truly knows
The answer to my question
Won't wave his arms to try
To fill the silent room
In absence of right words,
His thoughts devoid of sense.
This man will grasp my hand
And press it to his heart
So I will feel its beat
Echo through my veins
And blushing in my cheeks,
Joining my heart's rhythm.

I'm back!

Sorry friends that I've been neglecting to update my blog lately. It's been a while...

My Muse felt like taking a long vacation and nothing really valuable get done without her! ; ) Anyhow, check out the two posts below this one, titled "Kisses" and "Pines". I hope my contributions of two different forms will be enough to repay my laziness for the time being. ; )

Please let me know what you think - I'm eager to improve!

Yorik

Kisses

I sit by the fireplace, typing on my laptop to the crackle of wood. I think of you; perhaps, far away across the ocean, you are thinking of me, too. Warmth spreads over my limbs and my toes. I do not move for fear that my dream will fly up into the chimney, and disperse amidst the stars.

Silence in the room, I notice the curtains open. The tall windows are hauntingly black; I hate that, but I am too lazy to get up. What if someone is watching me? I freeze, but then imagine you peeking in, smiling at me, and I beckon you, overjoyed to have a visitor this lonely evening.

The coals shift and, too soon, I am awoken from the reverie. I watch the tongues flicker and the smoke waver. Sighing, I blow a kiss to the fire.

Catch it, darling, from the stars, and may it bring you peace.

Pines

Tall damsels dressed in green splendor
Their arms and skirts swaying
To the music of the wind

Swallows circle o’er the beauties
And they sigh... fragrant tears
Flow…crystallize…soft jewels…

Their skirt hems sweep over the rug
Whispering to the earth
Verses sent from the white clouds

The sweet perfume drifts through the air
To white camellias
And hovers over the pond

The sunset tints the green with red
Dewdrops glisten softly
The pine grove in mid-April