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  		• Questions.
  		• Golden Boy.
  		• Knowing.
  		• Remember.
  		• Promise
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    poetry

    12-04-2005
    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.Questions.
    Should tears taste sweet instaed of salty,
    would we cry more?

    Should love be more rewarding, instead of dissapointing,
    would we love more?

    Should growing old be more pleasant,
    would we live longer?

    Should we love our children less,
    would they become better people?

    Should we not ask so many questions,
    would we live longer?

     

    12-04-2005 om 00:00 geschreven door la mariposa

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    11-04-2005
    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.Golden Boy.
    Klik op de afbeelding om de link te volgen My grandson, my golden boy.
    Once upon a time he was my pride and joy.

    The bearer of my name,
    maybe destined to greater fame.

    When he sees me, his angel face gets clouded,
    his beautiful eyes become shrouded.

    What evil deed have I performed?
    To be looked upon as a devil scorned.

    What's going on in his little mind?
    That makes him prefer strangers, instead of his own kind.

    Written in a moment of despair, by a loving grandfather.

    11-04-2005 om 19:51 geschreven door la mariposa

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    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.Knowing.
    Stealing each others breath away,
    gazing into each other's eyes.

    Knowing very well, that without one another,
    this dreadful feeling of incompleteness never dies.

    This feeling called love forever,
    is it a blessing or a dangerous endeavour.

    I guess we'll never know,
    maybe, just maybe we'll have to undergo.

    11-04-2005 om 00:00 geschreven door la mariposa

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    10-04-2005
    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.Remember.
    Do you remember the touch of my hand,
    on our journey to the promised land.

    Although we never got asfar,
    we stood still and kissed under many a star.

    Do you remember the touch of my lips,
    the swaying of our hips.

    Do you remember still,the mating of our souls,
    of which they say, it will last forever and a day.

    10-04-2005 om 00:00 geschreven door la mariposa

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    09-04-2005
    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.Promise
    When spring is still a promise,
    and trees are bare.

    When morning light is like a tender kiss,
    and o so very spare.

    When edged on the window panes,beautiful white roses look at you with their frozen stare.

    When your eyelids flutter in a steady rythm, your soul aloft to countries rare.

    That's the moment my lovely, I want to take you in my tender care, and you, you are completely unaware.

    09-04-2005 om 00:00 geschreven door la mariposa

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