Tag: longing
member name: Fred Hose
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March 25, 2008 05:36 PM EDT --
When I'm Filled With Love
My fingers want to write poems,
My arms ache to embrace
And my feet want to dance
In the warm sands.
But my eyes only see
Beckoning fingers and siren eyes . . .
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August 15, 2009 06:19 AM EDT --
My room faces the desert sand
There are windows but no curtains.
When the desert wind blows
I feel its warmth
And I can hear the music.
But when I reach up,
I feel your tears,
Sweet . . .
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August 15, 2009 11:53 AM EDT --
Silvery Moon,
Source of all our mystery,
Sensuous mirror,
Reflector of our dreams.
Tonight, I’ve come to outwit you.
Here is my magic tool.
A flask of . . .
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August 25, 2007 12:16 PM EDT --
Did you go away , son?
No I'm still here Mama. I'm still holding you.
Yes I can feel that now.
How do you feel Mama? What can I bring you?
Nothing son.
Must I phone the others Mama?
No son. I just . . .
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February 22, 2008 11:06 AM EST --
The Heavens have gone gone dark as the thunder clouds pack up above our heads. Is that why I wrote this poem? Let me think about that.
Oh God to feel
Alive once more
Just to love and laugh . . .
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March 17, 2008 02:44 PM EDT --
Was it merely the moon
Or was it the heady wine?
Did they both dissolve
All of our futile restraint?
You swept back your hair
With a defiant brush
As your bosom heaved
And your wanton sleeve . . .
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April 15, 2007 02:40 PM EDT --
Liza's Melodies
This poem is loosely based on one of South Africa's most beautiful Afrikaans songs.
The melody is hauntingly beautiful.
I have a friend
Near the blue sea
On the slopes of Table . . .
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October 10, 2007 03:29 PM EDT --
Eyes flaming ears flat back
My steed gallops on
Driven by my passion
Bounding to my heart beat.
I've roamed the world
I've rubbed Riemenschneider wood
Lost myself in pre-Raphaelite worlds
Drunk . . .
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September 19, 2007 12:02 PM EDT --
How can I long
For what should be mine?
How can I find
What I already know?
Are there different clouds
Over different seas?
Are there sands
That are more golden?
All I know now is this . . .
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April 06, 2007 12:09 PM EDT --
My fingers want to write poems
My arms ache to embrace
My feet want to dance
In the warm sands
But my eyes only see
Beckoning fingers and siren eyes
And so I turn away and ask
Where are you tonight?
. . .
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January 30, 2008 06:52 AM EST --
I walked into the pub and said a loud "hi" to everyone.
The barman said "Hey, come on over here and join us".
I held up both my hands as if blocking his invitation.
"No . . .
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January 24, 2007 11:07 AM EST --
I don't care for spaces
Not if you were once there
In all your brave colours
And your glowing warmth near
But then when I looked
I was stunned for a while
There was no one there
Only a blank . . .
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May 23, 2007 11:27 AM EDT --
As I wrote earlier, troubadour's used the Sestina. They were lyric poets and their songs were about romantic flirtation and often about romantic desire.
I've done one form and here's the other...romantic . . .
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