Vera Lynn

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  • Passion

    Vera Lynn

     Vera Lynn


    She rocks the E flat chord,
    as blood onyx droplets,
    crash into the soil,

    Old girly barely speaks,
    but screams and is understood,
    As rage conflagrates the burnt summer
    sun, because the lack of love sears
    from her dreams that are nothing but passion.

    ~Zeta

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Cysonne’s Poems (11)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Haikuzoso 0 03/27/2011
    In my house of Pussy Cats 0 03/27/2011
    Kat's Got Clause 0 03/27/2011
    On Crystal Manor Creek 0 03/27/2011
    Neon dreams for Youth 1 03/27/2011
    Vera Lynn 0 06/23/2009
    Dora the Explorer, and her Timequake crush 0 06/02/2009
    A Bodacious buttblast of snow on Mount Beird 0 05/15/2009
    She calls herself Stardust 1 11/14/2008
    Tattoos 0 11/14/2008
    Dancin' to the Golden Blues 0 11/14/2008
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