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Crossed Deep Inside My Heart

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Love Poems

I sit thinking of you and I dream

where things are not what they seem

seeing you come and take my hand

as the hourglass runs out of sand



I see your hurt, can feel your pain

seek to shelter you from the rain

to stop time long enough to see

how to bring you here with me



Two paths travelled so far apart

now crossed deep inside my heart

Where no one was allowed to tread

you now may lay your weary head



And when the sun rises to our view

I will turn my head to gaze at you

reaching out slowly to touch your face

feeling at last I have found my place

Author's Notes/Comments: 

March 08, 2007 Update: This poem is being claimed by someone else as their own. It isn't. I guess I have made it now... what is that saying... when someone else claims your work then you know you have made it? LOL.

Anyway, what bothers me most is that it wasn't some stranger but someone I thought I knew.

I have contacted the person in question about their claim my poem is something they wrote. They have read my email but as yet have not responded.

That bothers me too.

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last updated 11 October 2010 - 3:32am
©26 October 2002 - 11:36pm — blackcat2
29 March 2004 - 4:16am — poetvg
poetvg's picture

I LOVE THIS ONE

23 September 2003 - 4:12pm — michael
michael's picture

You write really well. Hope you post more poetry.

Keep up the talent.

17 September 2009 - 9:55am — J-C4113D
J-C4113D's picture

Reading your comment at the bottom of your poem, I was reminded of a similar incident with one of my poems back in 2002 or so. I had posted a poem hypothesizing a possible solution to some unexplained anomalies associated with the fifth of the Whitechapel murders of 1888, and another poet expanded upon that hypothesis without footnoting the credit. I had to take steps, and the omitted footnote was included. Her editor had wished to ban her from the site, but I withdrew my complaint upon inclusion of the footnote. In a paradoxical way, plagiarism is one of the finest compliments---because it really means that you have created something so impressive that someone else is willing to commit an immoral act to possess it. I have looked at several of your poems this morning, and I applaud your verbal talent, and I also understand (but cannot condone, of course) why that other person was tempted to steal your work.

J-Called