I feel your heartbeat against me
as we dance to this old song
here in old love's privacy
exactly where we both belong.

And smell the lilacs in your hair
there just beneath my grizzled chin
in the cloud of life we share
savoring the love we're in.

The only thing which might seem strange
to anyone choosing to spy
there's no music playing to arrange
while we slowly weave our way by.

For after all the passing time
our rhythm has found its own rhyme.

It's that time of the year
tail ending December
time to let go of the past
knowing forever it won't last
leaving a lot to remember.

The usher at midnight door
greets time just past the hour
turning a page that'd bring
more songs for every dream
like seeds do bear a flower.

It's that time of every year
to make merry, have no fear
the future will bring the spring
more sunshine and rain to sing
it's time to change gear

A car radio is blasting chatter in rhyme,
The iambic rhapsody of a scratched record
Repeating the same vowels over and over-
But the sitar music from the Uber I’m in
Reminds me of something peaceful somewhere...
Don’t ask me to follow your most interesting tale,
I’m a stranger here myself.

all my life
i've only thought of one thing
YOU

you are why i got an education
why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands
why i got dressed up
why i learned to sing
and dance

He came from a hardworking clan
Sometimes he travelled to distant lands
The hardworking man Morning after morning he toiled
To provide for his family
Now and then he checked on them
To find out who needed what and when
He protected them and loved them all
He was the family man

There is no warmth outside today
when ice and sleet cover the ground
beneath a freezing sky of gray
whose cold winds set the pines to sway.
No hints of autumn are around.

For this is winter at its worst
no thoughts of spring come into mind.
Shoulders hunch, cold lips are pursed
I survey a landscape that seems cursed
a world described, at best, unkind.

MY BESTEST SAVE YOUR PROSTATE GUYS
Blog not poetry
FOR MEN AND HELPING WIVES
Sexual pragmatism

Poetry
I have saved a few
from prostate table
they listened to me
the doctor promised them
an operation in six months

its 19 years now
they have had sex
and
masturbated(as and when)
wives also cooperated
and
they have avoided
the removal of their prostate
yet continue.
to enjoy sex

Oh, how glorious to wake to an early Spring morn. A time when sleep is banished by the rising of a thumbnail of sun slicing through the outer crust of the earth, that we may see a presence by its further opening of the wound to view her golden existence heralding the birth of a new day.
It's golden light races across the fields of golden corn and the yellow of rape, and puts a smile on the dark faces of the Sunflower which have stood as sentinels throughout the night; now watching the returning bats their cry's silent in unheard lay.

Such a beautiful
lovely composed poem
by Neo's
poet organiser
so far unread

it makes my heart bleed
no one so far has read me
this week
wtf
what should I weep

founders are in no different position as me
why do I sulk and weep
none read me

Neo's have their own cotorie
I am part of none

but some do walk
as the autumn dawn
Stan was once
the present CEO
I had recommended
has totally forgotten me
WHO
Loverme ?