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Frost
Where there goes the cool,
I extend my hand,
To warm the ready tool,
Not the distance kept so bland.
Where there goes the chill,
I express the innterest,
Of another pot to fill,
As I glance abreast.
Where there be remorse,
I release the catch,
To add a morsel sauce,
To the final batch.
Where there be left alone,
I offer up the change,
To glide most presumedly home,
As to all remain.
Where their life continues on,
Tomorrow never knows,
I hope and pray the lovedd gone,
Shall the puzzle solve.
To do this write justice I'd have to say nothing at all.. only sigh at the beauty which befalls the reader.
But, I can not do that for you as the poet deserve to be told that this is magical and breath taking.
nothing short of perfection and only that because there are no greater words.
Meaning and powerful, the voice clear with a hint of cracking with every line. well done and worthy of so much more than my mere comments can amount to.
Amberlee
Richard... I thought I would leave you some verse...lets people know that I can match words in rhyme sometime (smiles) hope you like it... LEMON BEGAT RHYME the rooster crowed in early night and gave the misses such a fright it was hardly after high tea time the fog lifted and lemon begat rhyme the bird never imagined such a plight and did steam long into the night he absorbed the curiosity of a cat slipped on a freud and tipped his hat she offered up a fine sterling service which made the rooster mighty nervous tho gestures appeared kind, most generous both knew appearances can be quite venomous then ill winds blew up quite a storm things were cold where once were warm all things then could not in reverse and gifts exchanged weren't reimbursed the cold had settled upon the ground and the night and day silenced in sound these friends left in quite a mad rush in fear of the talk but more of the hush
Gee, pretty deep ... so deep I can just see shadows hovering in the dark pools, and cannot hear what they are trying to say ... let me look again ... nope, you appear to be cooking up something in quatrains 2 and 3 ... is it the fish I see darting somewhere between the rocks at the bottom of your pool ... they elude me as does the meaning of this poem ... maybe the lovedd gone have the answer to this puzzle, as you say ... Thanks for making me think, I honestly tried to share your thoughts, maybe my waters are muddied today. Nanook