The Rose

The Rose,
With her petals' of satin,
Color of passion,
With the aroma of love,
With her elegance,
She does capture the heart,
Like that of the purest diamond,
The diamond verses the Rose,
And the rose verses the Diamond.

The Cherry Tree

I open my door to breath,
The sweet fresh air that the rain brings in.

I look across the road and see,
A sweet cherry tree.

Oh how sweet those cherries do grow,
In the mist of summer's glow,
On the sunlit days',
The cherries' do shine.

Also, in the winter's rain,
Upon my window frame.

Always' the shine is the same,
The months' do pass,
The days'do go,
But one thing is sure, I do know,
The shine of that cherry tree glow.

KIDS

Gather, gather, together my friends',
For this day will never end.

I look out at the cityscape ahead,
And I see childhood fled.

Come back to the streets',
Fill the lanes' with your sweet feet,
As you skip along the dusty pavements',
Of the city.

Ride your bikes', get on those skates',
Be our children.

The children of the past,
Come back to us, we miss your noise,
Your mates' knocking on the door asking for the ball,
Climbing over fences', running along walls'.

Where has your adventure gone,
PlayStation is that wrong?

The Author

Word after word,
phrase after phrase,
Give me a rest from my own daze,
Along the page of typo dialogue.

Page after page,
Ink after ink,
The writer does claim to think.
In the twists' and turns' of the author's story,
They reside in their own glories'.

Maybe the author never leaves the desk,
But by dusk, has travelled through space and time,
Through dark ages', realms',
Catching rebellions' of hell,
In a quest not to be misled.

After dark has come and dawning is up,
The author tries at best to request,
Breakfast on the balcony of a beautiful villa, with a friend the chinchilla,
As the author pull's out the plans' for the next chapter,
At hand.

He look's down at the ground, haven't left the seat,
While the author rejoices in the retreat.
Of the beautiful landscape that the words' have formed and the path to the cottage, of fairies' and goblins'.

To the next adventure of stallion horses' and knights' that ride in flight over the hills' of land that the winds' remember of time begone.

The author tries to gather at pace the air and grace,
The catcher of dreams', the living memory of story upon story,
The author.

Mistakes

Mistakes' with small words' can be damaging to the progression of successions' in humanities',
So watch your perfume, sweet children of poetry,
Essential to fill the space in time, I claim no fame,
As I strengthen my game, not all you see is about you reader dear,
Delight in peace.

I come and I go, no problem is it for me,
I spend my time in peace as I write alone,
To fill this space in time,
Alone.

The stories', the poems', the diplomatic goings',
The strong the weak,
Humanity is far from bleak.

Judge the pace, yet not your own face,
Bittersweet, majestic charm,
Go out and try to find no harm.

Like the sea swirling along the shore,
On a warm day,
Throw your imagination away,
And come back home to stay.

The tide of life

Along the shore of life,
We pull the strings',
Of the living.

We wish for stride,
While we ride the tide of the living.

Be with me, along the tide of life,
While we search for the forgiving.

We race the beach, with the wind upon our breast,
As we bring in the beginning.

Hardship loom's in the rooms',
Of those who are unforgiving.

Bring the light of hearts',
As we share this reliving,

We wish for stride,
While we ride the tide of the living,

Bring me back to my strings',
Give my a chance to think,
As I feel my way to living.

Be with me,
As we ride the tide of the forgiving,
Set aside your strife, don't let me down,
While we ride the tide of life,
Be it in the wind of the forgiving.

Don't be mad just be glad that we are here,
Back to our beginning.

So ride with me along the tide of life,
Along that shore of the living.