“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

I am fragile
as the pulse that beats
Visibly
here at my wrist.
I am strong
as this resolute
Proud
steady fist.

Wouldst thou endure to fade like autumn gold,
To see thy treasures dulled in fading light,
To watch alone thy tarnished days unfold,
And pass a pauper into worthless night?
Who then will bring a wreath unto thy rest,
And keep thy garden flowered, as is thy wont?
The barren cross that lays above thy breast
Would bear thy name, yet bring to thee affront.
But if thou takes a servant to thy cause,
To tend thy garden and to do thy deeds,
And he would gift a son with no remorse
To tend to thee when his own strength accedes:
Thy treasure trove reflected in his gleaming
Would bring thee joy as thou is ever dreaming.

To all the Poets who work so Hard
To bring us their Precious Words
And tell us of their Tears and Fears

To all the Poets who work so dear
To tell us Magic tales of yore
Clashing swords and Dragons roar

To all the Poets who work so long
Juggling Words to bring them on
And express the Fights all won

To all the Poets who clever Phrase
Your words put us into a Daze
And, this poem's to Rave your Praise

This Poem's your Laurels to Honor you...


All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack

_

Messages may just be words
In phrases that we share
But every time I write it is
To show how much I care

It may seem such a little thing
So many people write
But when I send these words to you
It brings me such delight

I know there are a lot of words
Sent to your world each day
Your followers are every where
With other things to say

But please know I appreciate
The time you spend with me
Sending emails back and forth
That I can’t wait to see

I don’t need anybody else
It’s you that makes me smile
When I receive those messages
In your amazing style

At times I’ll write a poem
Then I’ll post it on this site
In hopes that you will read it
Thinking of me on that night

I guess this is another one
These verses that I pen
They’re written so that you will see
And understand again

That you are all I’ll ever need
My love for you is true
That’s why I just can’t stop myself
From writing these to you

The way to her heart,
Is through respect,
You want to love her,
You need to love her friends,
You need to love her family,

Before you ever ask her,
Ask her father,
Show him,
That you are the man that respects him,
That you respect his daughter,

Get his permission to date,
Get his permission to be serious,
Get his permission to marry her,

Wherever life takes you,
Wherever loves takes you,
Respect her,
She is fragile,
She is precious,
She is the most valuable thing that you will ever have.

Love her as if you would never love again,
Kiss her as if it is your last,
Hold her as to comfort her,
Look her in the eyes when you tell her you love her,

Respect the things she says,
Her heart only trusts so many times,
Don't use all your chances to make her happy or she will find someone who will,

As the quote goes,

Protect her like a daughter,
Respect her like a mother,
Love her like a wife.

Be

Responsible,
Empower her,
Support her,
Personalize her problems,
Enrich her life,
Communicate,
Together live life

I guess...
it is too late,
to become a gymnast.
too late to get up
before the sparrows rise,
take myself to the gym
and hurl my slim, svelte, sleek
gymnast's body about on apparatus

too late to tape my ankles and feet.
too late to slip into shiny unitards.
too late to covet trophies and medals.

I know...
it is too late....
my knees tell me so...
every morning!

I guess...
it is too late,
to become an astronaut,
to encapsulte myself
in a small rocket.
shoot myself into
the stratosphere
and look down in awe
upon the blue planet.

too late to deal with training.
too late to get myself fitted
for the baggy astro suit.
too late to be given the bubble mask.
too late to feel the awkward gracefulness of no gravity.

I know....
it is too late...
my knees tell me so
each and every morning...


thank goodness...
it is not too late,
to be able to dream.
to forget arthritic knees,
in delirious early morning dreams.

to believe these things are beautiful.
to know hope and glory, even if only
in the moments when you are yet to
awake to this days humble grind.
to live other lives..... if only..... momentarily.


I guess....
and I hope....
there will always be...
time space for that.

I know there will
my knees tell me so.....