Stars very rarely
Hang-out alone,

A perfect night sky
Lets this be known.

They come together
Forming a spectacular
Constellation,

Shining magnificently bright
In a festive celebration.

Subdued,
Gently glowing undertones
Of a perfect moon,

Allow each individual star's quality
To be extraordinarily exhumed.

A perfect,
Starry evening
Sadly comes to an end,

As dusk turns to dawn;
With it,
The sun it sends.

By Lady R.F.(C)2017

I don't need stars from the night-sky,
I don't need the moon,

I don't need any sunshine in my pocket,
All I need is you--my auspicious, priceless fortune.

I don't need precious diamonds that sparkle,
I don't need 24-carat gold,

I don't need luxury and extravagance,
All I need is your hand, to forever hold.

I don't need material belongings,
I don't need anything that money can buy,

I don't need cash in my wallet,
All I need is your unconditional love, forever - not a single day shy.

This is all I ever wanted,
This is all I'll ever need,

To be the undying love of your life, infinitely,
This is what I desire,
This is what I need from life,
to succeed.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

She is more
than what meets the eye,

She is a pending rainbow
that's hiding behind the clouds
in the sky.

She is a warm pocket
in a cold, deep ocean,

She is a virtual art form,
She is poetry in motion.

She is thunder and lightning
in a perfect blue horizon,

She is a delicate wildflower
growing in a plush green field,
one that is mesmerising.

She is an unexpected smile
on a lonely day,

She is instant relief
when things aren't going
your way.

She is a suprising hint of sweetness
when you are expecting
something sour,

She is a timeless friend,
She is an immortal flower.

She is more
than what meets the eye,

She is a breath of fresh mountain air, causing one to exhale a relieving sigh.

She is full of substance,
empathy, wisdom and kindness,

She contains infinite layers
of universes beneath her skin,
all of which are unrecognisable
to the naked eyes that suffer from "metaphorical" blindness.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

With elegance,
A Wordsmith interprets
In the exquisite,
Timeless language
Of poetry,

Delicately composing
Beautiful words
Into elaborate sonatas,
Each rendition A graceful,
Classical symphony.

With beauty and intensity,
Full of raw emotions,

Each wordsmith
Extracts their most inner-feelings
And intricately converts them
Into rhythmical compositions.

And this
Is the only fluent language
Their soul is able to speak...

Each sonata they release,
With wings,
Is individually mastered,
Impeccable, and unique.

May each Wordsmith
Never miss a beat,

And continue writing,
With poetic justice,
Their heart's rhythm
On every sheet.

***

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

And so,
That year,
The rain
Had forgotten to fall,

Winter slept-through its season,
It didn't hear Autumn's
Wake-up call.

Winter was oblivious
To the Earth's changing position
With regard to the sun,

This was made completely obvious
When the likes of Spring
Prematurely sprung.

Winter's time
Was well and truly
Over and done,

Winter
Was over
Before it had even begun.


By Lady R.F. (C)2017