Share The Love (Poetry)

PoodleTang wrote:

HeavenLeighBimbo wrote:

PoodleTang wrote:

Your response was almost poetry too.  Thanks!

Some beauty, starts the fire
  Flame dances in tune with
     the verse.
A communication, a curse.
   I have no idea why I think in such a voice....
  pages turned...  Life days spent, and earned.
Written by hand, out of a mind.
That listens for our own kind...
.......
                                        HeavenLeigh

this is fantastic.

It sort of flows and rolls, like a river or a sphere.

I am honoured by your kind words.  In fact  I gathered my children around,  to have them read your compliment.  They all think I'm a bit mad,  and simple, and couldn't believe that someone else, would understand,
a Thread Killer.....

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down. Jill's not around. She left him and went to town.

I love Heavenleigh's poems-They ROCK!!!! :0)

There are so many good ones out there...

Because I Could Not Stop For Death  by Emily Dickinson:


Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—
And Immortality.

We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility—
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess—in the Ring—
We passed the fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed the Setting Sun—

Or rather—He passed Us—
The Dews drew quivering and chill—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice—in the Ground—

Since then—'tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity—

You set, a beautiful stage,  but an unreadable poem.  Can you read post it,  Ella-Bella

Ok found one

Love itself must also die
Inger Hagerup ; Martin Allwood


Kill me, she said, for death must
master us anyhow.
Rather than living deserted by life
I will desert it now.


Love itself must also die
and never return again.
Love, let me lead our way,
let me be dead by then!

And another one

I trust
Inger Hagerup ; Martin Allwood

I trust in many things. In blood. In fire.
I trust paths that drown us in mire.
I trust in dreams that makes us far aspire

I blindly walk. Oh, do not lead me home.
Let darkness lead me on where'er I roam.
There is a door ajar in pitch-black gloam.


Some place where spirit and the body meet,
some place where time itself is at my feet
-surely there my heart the fire would greet? -


But heed me not. The words I speak today
are dangerous prophets who only lead you astray.
You must not think I am the one I say.


I think they're more beautiful in Norwegian. She was a genius with words.

Aww Heaven, it's beautiful.
I've said it before: You know how to use your words