this is one of my son's poems, if you would like to read more, www.thatpoem.com
Land-locked Piscean
I have alot of faith in star-signs, whether it is due to me fitting mine so well or the fact that I'm a hippy, I don't know. This tells of being a water sign living too far from the ocean. Hope you enjoy and thanks, again, for reviewing xxx
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Where art thou solitude
in which I can retreat?
A welcomed interlude
to rest my Piscean feet.
Where art thou ocean sleep
in which my mind can swim?
In you my thoughts lay deep
'neath all the worldly din.
Where art thou wanderlust
in which I feel most free?
Ash is ash, dust is dust,
'neath footsteps in the sea.
Where art thou faith in love
in which torment depart?
Where art thou diving dove?
Come grasp my drowning heart.
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By: Closingwindows
© Alan Brooke, All rights reserved
What a lovely poem. Well done to your son.
I can tell you are bursting with pride ;D.
Such a refreshing change to read something nice.
Thanks for sharing this.
Lauren :)
How lovely :)
Blimey that gave me goose bumps :)
there's one of his on the site about death, now that would give everyone goosebumps ;D
Great poem.
I wonder what he'd make of a Taurean in a rickety boat.....as this one was yesterday. Doing a favour for a friends friend! Some trees on an island which he owns in the middle of the river needed identifying.
Fortunately we didn't see the grass snake that he didn't mention until after or i wouldn't have needed the boat on the way back!
That is just lovely Marilyn. So you should be proud. Have also had a look at the site you posted a link to.
Lorna
thanks, Lorna et al..his 'handle on the site is closingwindows, his first bok's going to be called something like that ;D
there are a lot of talented people on there
I just had to put this one on, I don't know where he gets his talent from :)
by the way, he's 26
The writer's meaning of life
As humans we all seek answers to the meaning of life and the consequence of death. And as writer's we all seek an answer to why we write. This is my answer to these questions. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reviewing xxx
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Death's grip is filled with lust,
it's laughter drained of cheer,
feeds on the uncertain
and feasts upon our fear.
It hands us our hour-glass,
each grain a lesson learned,
through love, or lust, or loss,
each memory must be earned.
We can't escape this grip
though all of us will try,
as death's our common curse,
the curse we can't deny.
So why the gift of life?
We can't avoid our plight.
What have we to fly for?
If life's a fruitless flight.
Live to see a child smile
and live to heal a heart.
Live to fight all evil work
and live to feel a part.
Live to hear baby's laugh,
live to love together.
Live through the written word
whose heart beats forever.
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By: Closingwindows
© Alan Brooke, All rights reserved
Very very special, and I don't say that lightly. XX Jeannine
simply.... wow!
how good is that ??!!!