A poet writes of dreams and pain...of love of life and death
Forgotten hearts and souls that search...Quixote and his quest
The finer lines that tether souls and keep them within reach
The hectic part that goes so fast and words that cry and teach
That life is given equal chance to those that beat with grace
That hearts can meet that mate to dance when passion leaves a trace
When love is called to come again and justify two hearts
Who's days had passed and gone away forgotten with the thoughts
'That once again love can call and win this war of souls
When future stock is called upon to take these two to hold
When love comes out from deep within the blindside of the heart
Takes hold of trembles, shivers, shakes and makes a brand new start
Then poets write of just these times when love is Camelot
When Lancelot and Gwynn are bound to warm and fuzzy spots
When Hepburn and her Tracey are the ones that make the moves
Then Rhett and Scarlette bound the stairs to upper warmer rooms
When fair haired teens are Romeos and Cinderella schemes
When poets write the words we all wish for in our dreams
Writers give us hope and pain...we identify the muse
We read and fit ourselves to words, character and truths
It gives us faith in future form it gives us all a love
It gives us change...it gives us worth...it fly's...pulls and shoves
These two so sure...so pure and winged. of life upon a whim
Hearts that fly above our world...embraces love within
The poets of the earth are here to give us all a chance
To kiss the kiss of perfectness...to 'valentine' romance.

© Susan K. Rowse


Susan welcomes your comments!

Time to take our minds off war for a minute.