Your Eyes Speak From the Heart
But your eyes talk too.
They tell a different truth.
Your mouth whispers what you want me to hear.
False words of undying love,
Words claiming forever.
Your eyes, your beautiful eyes,
Tell the whole story,
From beginning to end,
With all the details at hand.
Your lips are convincing
But they change their mind,
And move without the truth.
Your eyes, portals to the soul,
Speak from the heart.
They cannot lie,
They separate themselves from excuses,
They speak straight and true.
Oblivious to your silver tongue,
Those orbs contradict the words
That slide so easily from your mouth.
I do not believe your words,
But I believe your eyes,
They speak from the heart.
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To Ignore Them is a Mistake
Rules are made to be broken,
I’ve oft heard people say,
Rules inhibit creative thinking,
So I won’t follow any today,
Regulations are sterner stuff,
Written in blood and sweat,
Underneath crisp words of order,
Lie coiled venomous threats,
Laws are for those who follow,
What society deems to be fit,
Customs whether right or wrong,
Expecting all to quietly submit,
I’ve seen rules that made sense,
Others that were rather lame,
As a youth I reasoned them out,
And rules became a game,
Regulations were not to be trifled with,
Unless I wanted to be locked away,
So I followed orders I received,
And kept my objections at bay,
Laws made were often flawed,
And burned those under their tread,
Until ruling society was brought to shame,
By all the blood that was shed,
Laws can be guidelines to build a box,
Where dreams cannot climb or fly,
Tired and worn, with little fire at all,
While all the world goes by,
Rules, regulations, and laws take their toll,
Keeping imaginations and hearts quelled,
Everybody marches to the same tune,
Until they choose to rebel,
Thus I follow laws of physics and science,
Because those laws men did not make,
Nature’s rules are fast and true,
To ignore them could be a mistake.
A Man’s Home Is His Castle
A Man’s Home Is His Castle
From the ramparts I stood searching,
A majestic wonderland just outside,
The brightness of the snow blinding,
Diamonds sparkling on every side,
A wealth of beauty on display,
Three deer have crossed my Sherwood,
Cardinals perched on empty tray,
Not far from where I motionless stood,
Upset that seed was gone, boldly had their say,
A man’s home is his castle it is true,
But without a queen to stoke love’s fire,
His heart becomes frozen through and through,
Now the wilderness and all I command,
Stand stark against the evening sky,
Soon darkness will sweep across the land,
And all I can do is wait and sigh,
She was strong willed and independent,
Not willing to quietly listen and obey,
Outspoken, she followed her own bent,
Disruptive in each and every way,
And yet, It was as if the world shook,
When she was there to play her part,
With each delicate step she took,
It was clear she loved with all her heart,
But to let her be so independent was absurd,
She was not what I expected her to be,
I sent her away with terrible kingly words,
But now I see, she was meant for me,
I’ve waited through the coldness of night,
I’ve climbed to the top of this tower of ice,
Where I can catch the first sight,
Trusting she learned of my new decree,
Hoping she’ll forgive, and it will suffice,
A king on my knees, willing to plea,
Hoping she’ll forgive and return to me.
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The Perfect Woman
The Perfect Woman ( Your People Will be My People)
Wherever you go I will go,
There are a few conditions, though,
I’ll follow you to earth’s ends,
But I won’t camp out with your friends,
Of course it matters where we are,
I’ll only stay at hotels, three or four star,
Roughing it is not my thing,
I might lose my diamond ring,
I’ll be by your side and help you, too,
As long as it’s reasonable to do,
I’ll give you a list regarding what it might entail,
Because I don’t want to sweat or break a nail,
Twice a month a manicure and pedicure I’ll get,
So I can’t help you then, please don’t forget,
Your people will be my people, my dear,
That’s why I mention this here,
When I say I do and I will,
That will mean forever until,
I check out the skeletons in your closet,
Do your kin have sins of scarlet?
Because if there is anything wrong,
We won’t be around them long,
Your people will be my people should we wed,
But I’d rather be with my kinfolks instead,
And because you’re my significant other,
You’ll have to tread lightly with my dear brother,
He’s wanted by the police,
And ignore my simple minded niece,
If she keeps reminding you of my uncle’s release,
Or my pretty Aunt Linda, just suppose,
What if she has a wart on her nose?
You might like my father, Bob,
Although he could never hold a job,
And my children, they’re all so sweet,
Their fathers you’ll just have to meet,
We’ll probably see them in court,
Because they’re all behind in child support,
I will go wherever you go,
Treat me like a queen, but remember though,
I’ll always love you, forever and a day,
As long as I’m happy, and you do things my way,
Your people will be my people, my dear,
But I’m moving next to mother, because she’s near.
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The Poem Not Written
My poetry is a time of curiosity, of smiles,
And childlike satisfaction of using guile,
It is a gift, a talent, imagined or real,
That lets my heart express how I feel,
It shapes itself from thought to pen,
And stirs my soul to write again,
My muse is often witty when she has her say,
Mediocre poems are due to her really bad day,
They may be laden with imagery and flow,
Or fall flat on their faces with little to show,
But the worst poem of all is the poem not written,
It waits swollen with promise, as if snake bitten,
Stares forlornly as other poems strut their stuff,
And never ventures out, it’s not good enough,
Nor does it climb into one of my dreams,
Pestering to be written as a beautiful theme,
The poem not written gets left behind,
Forever out of sight, and finally out of mind.
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