There has to be a common bond that joins us all as one
That is the poetic glue that forms the common bond
I think of names that stand out proud here  on this fine site
The names who write the words to be read into the night
Sverre,  Billy, the Petal Pie to mention but a few
And lets not forget the lovely Sye
One of our poets new
So many contribute to make this site what it is
So many words do cross the world
To make our poetry live
I applaud you all, mediocre or poets of note
The good who offer wisdom here where so few do ever glote
Never stop the flowing words my friends, never stop the flow
Your fine words can take us
To places where so few will ever go

I dedicate this to every member of Hello Poetry

Society says* I'm ugly
But I say I'm beautiful
Society says I'm dumb
But I say I'm intelligent
Society says I'm fat
But I say I'm the perfect size for Me
Society says I have too many flaws
But I say they make me who I am
Society kills me
But I remain alive
*Society says but I say different

~

I dream, I do
My mind, though of past returns,
pictures life as it could be…
only in a dream?

“Would she look at me if she knew?”

Fantasies painted on textured walls,
curves where straight lines have lived
Brush strokes of trembling fingers,
fearing that it could be…perhaps

Then the picture comes into view
like an open curtain to Eden
Fruited and vibrant in luscious folds,
beneath an arbor of frantic delight

Sunlight blinks as beauty beckons
from across fields and valleys
Overgrown of tall grasses and imagination
Flowing on a soft summer breeze

“Paintings now live in the minds of those who dream”

Wide is the canvas which sits
like an oasis for the eyes,
a spring for quenching thirst, food of wide-eyed wishes
now fading into the shadows of…impossible

For this that I see has taken my heart
sent it off to dance in nervous steps
across a floor on satin sheen
and sawdust scratches…slipping away

A poster on the wall announces the opening act
coming soon, live and in person…I stand
a wreck, a shivering mass of never,
melting slowly into the audience of hidden backgrounds

“Would she look at me if she knew?”

I dream, I do
My mind, though of past returns,
pictures life as it could be,
only in a dream…