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Bede Sep 2019
I miss things
So many things,
The most of which is you!
Bede Sep 2019
Added collections,
Tomes of tomes,
Memory lane in poetic fashion.
Curated by yours truly!
Bede Sep 2019
The sun is so beautiful today
I feel as if I'm clearer headed.
I don't know how, but i know I am
Freer to love how I wish.
Bede Sep 2019
Countless questions
With no more answers,
Yes and no
Written in her eyes.

Time will tell, dear
If my wishes come true.
Neither answer
Will stay my heart.

Yes or no, dear,
Can come in winter.
Whether this one
Or the next, or the last.

No more pain
And no more sorrow.
Time to make your
Smile shine bright.
I'm wishing for my world
Bede Sep 2019
Your uncertainty
Understandable,
And it may take years,
But you'll see I will be
The one you wished to love
The way you wished to love me.
Or I shall be
The mate of your soul
And your bestest friend.
Either way, my love
I will be forever happy
To be yours.
I still trust you with my heart, just like a promised it away again yesterday, freely, and happily so.
Bede Sep 2019
You may not return
Into my loving arms
As anything more
Than a friend,
But this won't stop me
From loving you like crazy
Every day of my life.
Bede Sep 2019
I nary wish to hide my penned
And quoted phrases, hidden in
My nonsensical rhymes, symbolic speech
No, I shall not let my words beseech

The sanctity of openness,
The sacred land of free excess,
My page, my land, looked for with care
Where I may lay my feelings bare.

Bring forth the peering eyes, behold!
A treasury of stories told
Within the madman's wealthy rhymes,
Looking forward, or back in times.

My heart is free, my soul unhinged,
My mind consumed by thoughts less grim.
All thanks to the Muse's daughter, sweet,
Within my mind, fear I defeat.
Happy Poetry done my way
Bede Sep 2019
I'll gladly give you
every mite I can
Just to prove
You are my center
And my world
Bede Sep 2019
You drive me crazy
Like a child seeing
Stars for the first time
Cox Jul 2019
The honeybee lands onto the small flower,

A friendship blooming immediately.

The bee talks of pollen and how wonderful it is,

But the flower is silent.

The flower is afraid that it will be used time and time again,

Endlessly dying in a fantasy that we call love.
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