Thoughts.
The morning breeze blowing gently across a vast plane,
the breking of the sun from behind the clouds,
the chirping of the birds;a new dawn is annouced:
Hope not a state of mind,but as soft as promise,a whisper in my heart
you are for real and not a dream.....
Yes your voice still echoes.... can't wait to see you.
Mi Amore.
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| My Motherland | 1 | 08/07/2009 |
| Thoughts. | 0 | 07/10/2009 |
| The mind of a young lad | 0 | 07/10/2009 |
| Love's Entry | 2 | 07/10/2009 |
| ROSE FLOWER | 1 | 06/09/2009 |
| Mother | 1 | 03/09/2009 |
| love affair | 1 | 06/09/2009 |
| weather | 0 | 03/04/2009 |
| THE MASTER PIECE. | 2 | 03/04/2009 |
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