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Susan K. de Vegter

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Passion Remembers
by Susan K. de Vegter

Monday, November 06, 2006
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Susan K. de Vegter
•  While Searching for a Memory
•  Wings of Endless Dawn
•  Passion's Metamorphosis
•  Feeding Upon Spring
•  Illunminating Phosphorous
           >> View all 1,204




Theories come and then depart
Some punch holes inside the heart
Passions true for those with hope
Lust calls others...then try to cope
Some raw passions give in easy
Lust takes hold and souls get busy
Waking in the morning light
Lust creeps homeward leaving fright
Passions burn inside the heart
Knowing well the beat it starts
Love is called and rushes in
Pleasures, passions, grin-to-grin
Calling names and merging spirits
Lust forgets within few minutes
Names? Who are you...lust calls out
Passion dreams the love and shouts
I love you with everything
I walk in winter and think of spring
I smell the buds before they open
I whisper breaths to words unspoken
I recall every tiny sip
The ones that forms from sipping lips
I know the facts are welcome here
Love is passion without fear
Passion recalls, yes remembers
All the moments warm and tender
Lust is gone within minutes
No name spoken, no hearts beating
No emotion with hollowed hearts
Giving into lustful sparks
Disappearing the next day
Remember...nope...just lust that plays
Passion recalls every bit
Lust is hopeless and forgets.

2006 Susan Kathryn de Vgeter

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Reviewed by Simon Barreiros 11/10/2006
A wonderful work. And very true as well. Ther is no love in one who lusts nor lust in one who loves. Observe our fellows in the world, do they not tire of lust, greed or gluttony. Seems they don't amazingly.
Loved it when Tom Waits said,"All that you love is all you own"
yours...simon
Reviewed by CJ Heck 11/8/2006
Susan, this is a lovely poem. Your words ring so true. Very well done and I enjoyed.
Love,
CJ
Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 11/8/2006
Lust has no future...I agree!!

Love Tinka
Reviewed by Randall Barfield 11/7/2006
excellent displays of personification cheers fortunately lust forgets!
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 11/7/2006
Lust is instant; love is patient; love waits. Passion grows over time. An excellent message in well written poetry, Susan!

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 11/7/2006
And dull dies...

Ron
Reviewed by Peter Paton 11/7/2006
Susan

I agree
Lust has no future
Love is where it is at..

Love and Blessings

Peter
Reviewed by J. Allen Wilson 11/7/2006
Wonderfully said Susan...so right
Reviewed by Mr. Ed 11/7/2006
Love is passion without fear

How true, and quite a poem, Susan.
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader) 11/7/2006
A lovely flow to this dynamic poem. I think of spring all winter too..
Reviewed by jude forese 11/6/2006
passion endures but lust can sure be a lot of fun ... seriously, your define passion eloquently ...
Reviewed by Victor Buhagiar (Reader) 11/6/2006
Lust is deadly, it kills the soul. It leaves only an empty husk. Excellent poem. Victor
Reviewed by E T Waldron 11/6/2006
coming from the pen that knows passion and love well enough to write like this about it! missed reading you sis! Great poem! Eileen
Reviewed by William Bonilla 11/6/2006
An awesome write ...Susan
Well penned and presented

Love & Peace
William
Reviewed by Phillip William Allen 11/6/2006
Sweet pen you've created
Reviewed by Paul Williams 11/6/2006
That is so true, lust is just a transient emotion, passion is soul born. Beautiful write Susan.

Paul;-)
Reviewed by George Carroll 11/6/2006
Passion is loves mate and between the two there is joy forever.
Reviewed by Felix Perry 11/6/2006
A very passionate poem that wraps passion in a fabric of silk words enticing the reader with the sensual images you portray. You are also so write to differentiate between passion and lust
Reviewed by Dove JoAnne Cromp (Reader) 11/6/2006
AAAAAawwwwwww...This is astonishingly beautiful Susan..It is what life is worth LIVING for...

Love,
Dove
Reviewed by Tactfully Naive 11/6/2006
Passion dreams the love and shouts
I love you with everything

An old man once said to me that compared to God's love, man's love was lust. A bit brutal, I thought, because I love not lust my wife, I thought. But I soon got the gist of what he was saying. Your poem here brought the old man and what he said to mind.
I love your line about passion shouting I love you with everything. That's the difference between lust and passion. The former has its own way and sleeks off like a guilty dog, while passion is emotional content that leaves its uplifting mark on the recipient.
Nah, your poem is not a theory of passion but a colourful depiction of it.



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