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Beauty (Remove filter)

Short and Sweet

When I regard the short and sweet,

That perfect crossroad given life--

And since the two so seldom meet--

I like to stop and stay awhile.

 

For what observer could protest

To cherishing a fleeting thing,

And wishing it to stop and rest,

To hold it up and hear it sing?

 

But recognize its fading glow,

The moment one's excitement peaks,

Then turn around and let it...

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OH ENGLAND

Oh, England,

you green and pleasant land,

your beauty never ceases to instil

a calmness in my hands.

 

A sense of peace; contentment

within my wandering mind,

a fulfilling feast for longing eyes

that seem always looking behind.

 

The golden greens of your pastures

covering long and rolling hills,

the succulent scent of your flowers

tickling senses to smile at...

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HOPEFUL EYES

What sad weary eyes we have

that see, in all the world,

such poverty and pointless pain.

Would not the sunlight bathe upon it

if we simply look again?

 

For the eye of the beholder

may choose the depth of tint

we see, through a rose coloured lens.

A hint of fanciful forms,

as they filter the rays they sense.

 

From beneath the haze

of the shimmering sun,

l...

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HOPEEYESNATURELIFEBEAUTY

PORTENTOUS PROGNOSIS

(If Mother Earth could speak...)

 

I’m the first light of dawn setting fire to the skies,

the awe that ends with a soft, sated sigh.

I’m the slow, gentle sway of ancient, lofty trees,

branches of life filled with wonders to be.

 

I am sands and seas; a warm summer breeze

blowing soft, whispered tunes over ever-changing dunes.

I am stars in the heavens sailing high overhe...

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Prose about Her

 She is a beautiful woman, my mind is taken by her. But this is not the first time I have fallen to fancy. I tend to exaggerate in a longing for romance; yes, I could list many superlatives about her. But what would that say? Really, nothing might happen. She might love someone else. I might love someone else. Then this desire to potray her, as one who is ideal, so as to be poetic, is hopeless. I ...

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BeautyLove

My Heart Is A Level Crossing

Does your heart stop
momentarily
when confronted by beauty
unexpectedly

Out walking on an autumn evening
a train intersects the low setting sun
crossing a bridge over the swollen river
our worlds' perfection is exposed 
so clearly

And my heart stops
like a level crossing
my heart stops
in that moment

I take a breath
a deeper breath
reeling in that moment
let the beauty in
le...

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