PASSION DYING

beautifully written i especially like - 'Then shadows cast their long-sung shaded colours, where once love bloomed and sent the blood up high, and owls toowitoowooed among the pines, and greens of bushes,' love and hugs to you from judyanne xxxx http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com/title/TwentyMyPrettyPonies.html

absolutely beautiful,i loved it all i can't choose a stanza sad but inspiring! so wonderful to have you back! with much love shirley harrison

What a pretty poem! Wonderfully written. Greeneyes

Passion dying? No chance! Not within our lifetimes! Such a terribly sad but lovely, bittersweet poem, Ann. ~ The whole modern world has divided itself into Conservatives and Progressives. The business of Progressives is to go on making mistakes. The business of the Conservatives is to prevent the mistakes from being corrected. G.K. Chesteron

So sad, but beautifully written. Xena Quote: Science is what you know; philosophy is what you don't know. - Bertrand Russell

There is a reverse feeling of falling in love, agreed, shares the same intensity.

Your wondrous words weave a spell of poetic passion, and that rivals, if not surpasses, any that our childish gropings could ever generate! Beautifully done, and superbly penned!

As I listen to your poem, I can hear you so well... Like a lovely Noregian Lokke Call... And I can feel you too...I hear the Hardingfela and I hear you say to me: "The Hardingfela is playing, it is that strangely ‘distant hill’ sound that mesmerises one, it has the essence of the wilds, the repetition of natures gurgling streams and calling birds, lullaby-singing Mothers and whispering winds. Something primitive in our senses is awakened to the secret world beyond the visible to all thing’s innate magic presence, a sense that every living thing has ears to understand. Or what is it?" These words of yours are a poem to me. You will always dance in my heart! This is for you; A poem I love and want to share with you: A Sybil Long before our time they called her old, But she'd walk down the same road every day. Her age became too much to say In years — and, like a forest's, would be told In centuries. She comes to stand at dusk — Her spot each time the same — and to foretell. She is a hollow, wrinkled husk, Dark as a fire-gutted citadel. She has to turn her flock of talking loose Or it will grow too crowded to relieve. Flapping and screaming, words are flying all Around her. Then, returning home to roost, They find a perch beneath her eyebrows' eaves, And in that shadow wait for night to fall. -Rainer Maria Rilke Think of me, the next time you walk in those beautiful Noregian Woods... Where in my dreams, I fly. With my love, Raven

This is a thousand sighs poem ... made me cry hugs brilliant nominated love you JayCee x x x (Quote~~"It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree. "--Charles Baudelaire)

lake shore fires the lake jumping with its mystery all that water and stone the sublte shore accepting each fallen crest and the night woods waiting for the moon to YearWander and arise the boney bed blanket sweeping in the magic of the rush fan and fawn of spirits while night creatures cry and a falling star ignites the seconds like a tear flashing in the moonbeam

your magical words are very moving....making the moods & emotions perceptible... this is a beautifull rendering from heart strings.. warmly...raj (sublime_ocean)...

A finely penned poignant, bitter-sweet poem, well expressed and with resplendent imag - work, with a lovely flow. Wonderful work Ann. Thank You so very much for sharing.

and simple congratulations for SPOT LIGHT GR88888888888888888EST WRITE R I KNEW ONCE..... ONCE....ONCE

'''Your wondrous words weave a spell of poetic passion, and that rivals, if not surpasses, any that our childish gropings could ever generate! Beautifully done, and superbly penned!'' The most beautiful comment I've read in a life time of my CHILDHOOD IT Surpasses ALL THAT'S WHY I READ YOU PERHAPS YOU HAVEN'T READ ANY OF MINE EVER AGAIN MA'AM I GRANT U UR InDEPENDENT DECISION /// ALBEIT I STAND AT THE ALTAR AWAITING THE GUILLOTINE !!!! SPELLING NEEDS CORRECTION PERHAPS!!! ISTAN ONCE now LOVEDLY FOR ALL

Sister, Will not this dead husk of sadness, with cracks to the dryness, split so that silk of self may find the wind. So it will always be, and at the end of one form another awaits. All good-byes are merely to teach us how precious each hello is and to truly perceive the butterflies wing is to fly unencumbered into its miracle of time and place. A good page is filled with good words tomorrow has yet to write. Love B & ~A