In Words

When the world turns oh, so bitter
And tears start pouring down like rain
I hope to find i’m not a quitter
By the words that will remain.

Hundreds of years, a thousand faces push

Stories of passion, dreams, and time
From all around in different places
Beauty reveled in every line.

Alive he wrote the books we save
Now to the memories we’re bound
How still he lies within his grave
Speaking words without a single sound.

Yet, life he loved at its best
And closed the darkest door
Forgiving days of old past
Into the words of poetry he’d pour.

Love was a topic much admired
He brought a piece of it to earth
The only wish he had desired
Fragmented by the sin at birth.

I whisper words with admiration
In the filled pages of his book
Such pure and honest  inspiration
Gives my life a brand new look.

July 24, 2011
(Inspired by poet Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin)



Walking with a Dead Poet

If I had another momentpot
Just to bring you back to me
Then the story may be finished
Out of this world we could flee.

Run our feet beside the sunset
Lie beneath the bright blue sky
Hand in hand we’ll be together
Hand in hand we’ll say goodbye.

In the night we’ll reach for stars
Sit for hours by the ocean
Moonlight will guide the way back home
Forget about the worlds commotion.

Speak of poetry we will
Create dreams of oceans deep
Your timid love, so true and real
With open hearts we then shall sleep.

Slowly we’ll drown within our passion
Never will I leave the arms of your embrace,
And when I gaze into the mirror
I wish to see beside me, your charming, perfect face.

July 26, 2011