Thamk you 1956CLEO. Oh if it were just so easy as it used to be...lol

Evan

Oopsie...wrong version all...small change but wanted it thus:



Daisies

Remember when we were younger,
the many games we used to play,
when we were young, and sweet and innocent,
just to pass the the time away?

Those simple times when the boys and girls
were just playing on swings and such
and the attractions hadn't started yet
or hadn't been noticed much.

Then all of a sudden that seemed to change
as we all became more aware,
the boys of girls, and the girls of boys
and the attractions that were there.

And once that started happening,
the games we played changed, too,
the boys would start with teasing the girls,
it's just something we boys would do.

And the girls, they started huddling
and talking about the boys,
which ones were hot and which were not,
and we all began our little ploys

to attract the ones we thought were cute,
the one's we seemed to like,
the ones that stuck within our minds
when the days turned into nights.

And we'd often play one other game,
as puppy love set in,
we'd pick a single Daisy from the ground
and with it we would begin

to pull the petals one by one
from the Daisy in our grasp,
saying "she loves me and she loves me not"
til we were down to one at last.

And if it didn't happen to turn out right,
the way we wanted it to,
we'd simply pull another one,
and we'd simply start anew,

'til there was but a single petal left,
with "she loves me" next in place,
and joy would enter into our hearts
and put a smile upon our face.

But those days are far behind us now,
though those questions arise again
when that very special lady
happens to enter the hearts of men.

But too old we are for Daisies now,
or the joys that they once brought,
for even a petal pulling marathon
would all be done for naught

when we face that age old question
that has plagued the hearts of men,
of "she loves me or she loves me not",
and will this heart be broken once again.

So all we can do is hope and pray,
and toy with Daisies in our minds,
hoping the love you have and hold for her
will not be left behind,

and that in time those words will finally come
from this woman you've come to know
and bring the joy that final petal pulled
brought so many years ago.

Remember when we were younger,
the many games we used to play,
when we were young, and sweet and innocent,
just to pass the the time away?

Those times when the boys and girls alike
were just playing on swings and such
and the attractions hadn't started yet
or hadn't been noticed much.

Then all of a sudden that seemed to change
as we all became more aware,
the boys of girls, and the girls of boys
and the attractions that were there.

And once that started happening,
the games we played changed, too,
the boys would start with teasing the girls,
it's just something we boys would do.

And the girls, they started huddling
and talking about the boys,
which ones were hot and which were not,
and we all began our little ploys

to attract the ones we thought were cute,
the one's we seemed to like,
the ones that stuck within our minds
when the days turned into nights.

And we'd often play one other game,
as puppy love set in,
we'd pick a single Daisy from the ground
and with it we would begin

to pull the petals one by one
from the Daisy in our grasp,
saying "she loves me and she loves me not"
til we were down to one at last.

And if it didn't happen to turn out right,
the way we wanted it to,
we'd simply pull another one,
and we'd simply start anew,

'til there was but a single petal left,
with "she loves me" next in place,
and joy would enter into our hearts
and put a smile upon our face.

But those days are far behind us now,
though those questions arise again
when that very special lady
happens to enter the hearts of men.

But too old we are for Daisies now,
or the joys that they once brought,
for even a petal pulling marathon
would all be done for naught

when we face that age old question
that has plagued the hearts of men,
of "she loves me or she loves me not",
and will this heart be broken once again.

So all we can do is hope and pray,
and toy with Daisies in our minds,
hoping the love you have and hold for her
will not be left behind,

and that in time those words will finally come
from this woman you've come to know
and bring the joy that final petal pulled
brought so many years ago.

Thank you, thank you very much...lol

Lines

There are always times that a poet
will struggle to find the words
to show what lies within his heart,
to have his feelings heard.

As I've said so many times, my Dear,
the words have flowed like wine,
they have never come any easier to me
and they.ve never been as fine.

But now a problem faces me,
and I don't know where to go,
to show what lies with my heart
so that you are sure to know.

The problem is that they've grown too fast
these feelings in my heart,
for the woman I see and sense in you
that I've desired from the start.

And as the weeks have progressed, my Dear,
ever deeper they have grown,
and along with that the desire in me
to have these feelings known.

And with each successive poem,
especially the last two or three,
I saw the problem coming up
that would soon be facing me.

And now that's just where I've arrived,
and what faces me this day,
just how I'm supposed to cross that line
placed in front of me some way.

And within the ones I've written,
I''ve left a clue or two
to try without actually saying it,
to express how I feel about you.

I've tiptoed all around it,
and I've walked up to the line
of exposing what lies within my heart,
these feelings that are mine.

And I've tried to sneak around it,
but it seems there is no way
and the only thing for me to do
is just cross that line today.

And throughout this poem so far, my Dear
that's been what I've been trying to do.
To find a way to cross that line
and express how I feel to you.

But it's far more easier said than done,
for it's much safer on this side.
It's a chance and risk not taken
with those feelings you don't confide.

And despite all the efforts given here
I don't know if I really can
express to you that word or two
that lives within this man.

And with that I'd better end this now
with me feeling clearly lost,
for this poem is now a failure
with that line left still uncrossed.

Thanks everyone..it's quite a place here..so many...lol

Angel

Let me be your Angel
and take you in these arms
to absorb the hurt within you
and shelter you from harm.

Let me wrap my wings around you
and take away your pain,
let them form a shield around you
so you'll not be hurt again.

Let me lift you from your heartaches
and put them in the past,
I will lift you to the Heavens,
our hearts as one at last.

The Angels all will gather
to watch us as we fly,
they'll see the love within our hearts,
the passion in our eyes.

We will soar the light fantastic
two hearts, two souls as one.
Together, we will brush the clouds,
we will rise above the Sun.

My wings will carry us upward,
on Angel's wings we'll soar,
our hearts and souls united,
now and forevermore.

Let me be your Angel
and give my heart to thee,
that we may paint the skies forever,
together, you and me.

Evan

Thank you LA....

Hope you enjoyed Gibran also

gulp.....

Thought I would add this to Blonderockermom and others

Kahlil Gibran on Joy and sorrow:



On Joy and Sorrow
Kahlil Gibran

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Kahlil Gibran...one of my favorite poets/philosophers from his collection called: The Prophet, Note..this material is freely distributed throughout the net.

yes it is, and a road far too well traveled...but...here we go again....

And thankx evertone

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwe..your just saying that. really..thank you...

Thank you very much...

Butterflies

Today I sit and ponder
if I should risk again
the opening of my heart to love,
to let another in.
Though in the early stages
of this relationship, my dear,
there's reason for that doubt again,
there's reason for that fear.
For there's signals that come to all of us
that tell us when it's right
to risk again the broken heart,
to risk the sleepless night.
Such signals are the Butterflies
that I feel inside of me
when I think of what's transpired
in the time you've spent with me,
The times we've shared together,
that I've hated so to end,
and the vision you present to me
has this heart a flutter again.
The Butterflies are flying
and the doors are open wide
to a heart that longs for romance
and to let someone inside.

SandCastles

We often speak in romance
of characters from fantasies.
We speak of princes and princesses
and of noble kings and queens.
We speak of our Prince Charmings
and of our Angels in the skies,
for all of us dream to be one of these things
in someone else's eyes.
And such are the dreams of this man,
to some woman, her prince charming be,
to be the prince of her dreams to the princess
the prince to the princess in thee.
And I've had these dreams of you my dear.
Will this frog your prince charming be?
And will you be the princess to this man....
of these dreams will we finally be free?
Oh, if I could I would build you a castle
that's the greatest in all the land.
It's spires would tickle the starry skies,
and we walk there together hand in hand.
I'd surround it with moat and drawbridge
to protect my princess from harm...
with a fireplace built into every room
to keep my beautiful princess warm.
And I'd have for us the most majestic of steeds
so that we could ride like the wind on their feet,
and you'd see that this kinght in his armour
is the most princely that you'll ever meet.
And I'd slay all the fiery dragons
that would dare to inhabit our land...,
on majestic steed, I'd seek them out
with Excaliber in my hand.
Yes, I'd fight to the death all these dragons
that might ever have threatened thee,
so that you'd see me as your protector...,
so that you'd see the courage in me.
But, alas, I will build you no castles
that's the greatest in all the land,
for the only castles we would ever build
are the ones that we'd build out of sand.
Nor will there be the knight in his armour
nor the majestic steed he would ride...
no realms of ours to to ride like the wind
with you there by my side.
And there are no fiery dragons,
to slay for my princess's sake,
for the only dragons we'll ever face
are the dragonflies by the lake.
But what makes a man princely stature?
Is it the having and giving these things?
Or is it that he would if could for the princess in you
and the knowledge and feeling that brings.
For the simplest of little cabins,
could be a castle to lovers, you see...
it's not the house you live in that makes it so
but who lives there and loves there with thee.
And the simplest of vehicles the majestic steed
to travel side by side ore the land...
with the person you live and love with,
with the one you've given your hand.
And though there are no fiery dragons,
the uncertainty of what lies ahead,
will be the dragons that you'll face together
with Excalibur of love in your hands.
Yes, we often speak in romance
of characters from fantasies.
We speak of princes and princesses
and of noble kings and queens.
We speak of our Prince Charmings
and of our Angels in the skies
for all of us dream to be one of these things
in someone else's eyes.
And such are the dreams of this man
to some woman her prince charming be,
and I find myself hoping the Princess in you
will discover the Prince within me.

Ribbit

Thanks you two....yes a fan would ne nice...

a href="http://imageshack.us"><img src="http://img156.imageshack.us/img156/4843/morningglorysw5.jpg" border="0" alt="Image Hosted by ImageShack.us"/></a><br/>

Morning Glory


I lie there next to you in the morning,

sun streaming in through curtains

casts soft highlights to your hair,

to your face and to all that is you.

Your sweet, soft lips shimmer in that sun.

The Sandman still works his way

with you, but I don't mind,

for these moments are mine.

For as you bask, yet, in slumber

in that morning sun, I bask

in the Morning Glory of you,

the shimmering lips the night before

I was lucky enough to have kissed,

the mussed hair from our slumber

and from holding you there

as I tasted those lips.

I gaze upon the sheets that cover you

in your slumber. Still naked beneath them,

lying on your side, the sun

leaves no doubt that thou art woman

as it presents to me the sensuous silhouette of you.

Such wondrous curves to entice a man

had worked their way with me and wrought

in me the passions of the night before.

But there's more to the Glory in that morning sun.

Sweet, sweet scent fills the air, still, stirred

by the heat of the rays that strike us,

much like the heat in ourselves

that wrought those scents. The scent of the

woman that is thee entices me still

as does the vision before me

and the knowledge of the woman within.

As you lie there in slumber, I brush

back the hair from your forehead

and plant just one kiss in remembrance,

remembrance of our midnight sun,

our night of sharing of ourselves, our hearts

and our passions with one another.

Bright, bold and beautiful our lovemaking,

like the sun that shines upon you now.

I could lie here for hours on end

gazing at you like this and thinking

of our night past, but desire, too, to awaken you

for more of the same...

but you will always awaken,

and once so, all of these moments that

I so treasure will be gone until another morn,

so I let you sleep instead.....




then my alarm goes off and I realize

that it was I who was sleeping,

not you...


Sweet Dreams



Evan

Thanks again...long distance love...oh how hard it is!

Thanks all...more to share and Sorry about that Mike...hadnt read that anywhere here but wont happen again.

Thx again

Hi..seems like my post to my website with some of my poems has been deleted fpr so,e reasom...maybe because of links? Don't understand why. So will post them here one at a time... beginning with teh Scukptor, a finalist in the International Library of Poetry Competition:

The Sculptor

If I were a Sculptor
ordained by God above,
I'd summon all my talents
to carve a statue of you my love.
For the distance that lies between us,
the miles that we're apart,
leaves an emptiness inside me
and a longing in my heart.
I'd search the world over
for the most beautiful of stone
and with hammer, knife and chisel
work my fingers to the bone.
And when my work is finished,
I'd pray to God above
to breathe life into that statue,
to breathe life into my love.
No longer would the miles between us
leave this longing I feel in me,
and I would take you in these loving arms
and make wondrous love to thee.
If I were a Sculptor
ordained by God above
I would have you always with me
I would have you here to love.


Evan