Writing

Quill Pen

Love poems will always be popular,

and I know why,

lifeblood of the soul, so rich,

needing the inspiration.

The tribes stir me and nature,

the words are there but hidden,

with a veil, a mist covering

my thoughts about

culture.

I look for light to burn

off the fog,

going deep for a spark,

looking around for beauty,

to ignite the heavens,

where is it?

soul crying out for words.

Inside.

 

Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

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The Sound of Rain

The Sound of Rain

Hearing the rain pounding the roof,

means we are warm and safe inside,

a gentle fear, which will be over soon,

the world will have sunshine,

in spite of the heavens pouring out wrath.

All we need to do is get down into the covers,

and hold each other, a little bit longer,

you and I.

 

© Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree