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Oh must you be obsessed with me Though years have passed since then?
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I like your voice, but not your words; Your eyes - no doubt - hold something more
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What can a gypsy do to turn the head Of one bright knight upon this starry eve?
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Well fancy meeting you here in my dreams!
I never thought you'd come this way again.
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I'll know it when I see it; This is sure.
I'll know it by the way it's branches twist,
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The brittle grass waves in the summer breeze
While shades of clouds pass over aimlessly.
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You think I'm hard to please? If so, do share
A way I might appease my dreams by way
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My mind is wide awake, my body tired.
So many thoughts and questions flood my mind;
by Frodofan
15 lines, 4 comments,
on Jul 17 3:55 PM. In sonnet, rhyme, death, poetry, writing, writer, life, heaven, thoughts, form
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I am reminded once again
Why all my dreams are hid away;
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Ophelia floated in the Seine,
So as I drift in this cool lake.
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Oh Emma, Emma, dark and fair,
You step as softly as a cat
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I watched him as he smelted ores
And smithed his iron and his gold.
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Oh! I lay waiting, waiting still
Beneath our little meeting hill.
by Frodofan
24 lines, 5 comments,
on Jul 3 9:16 AM. In love, ghost, hill, seasons, change, waiting, patient, unrequited, rhyme
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Stacking stones.
The ocean groans,
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Who is that girl in the old dusty frame
Who strangely looks somewhat like me?
by Frodofan
18 lines, 9 comments,
on Jun 21 12:47 PM. In memories, personal, rhyme, scrapbook, nostalgia, change, people, life, time, past
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Yes, love was special when I was a child,
A focus in my dreams and fairy tales.
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We stand as one as if at one,
The midnight hour has passed us by
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Do not fret, love. It will fade.
Build a mental barricade.
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Though she is praised and much admired
For her beauty, for her dance,
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I brought you home! I brought you home!
I'm calling you my own.
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I sit and think of foreign lands
And all the places I have known,
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Tell me, did you hear that?
A whisper on the breeze.
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Your lips were often my delight,
Your hair the silk upon my skin.
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Could it be Father Gile
That I've overdone my part?
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I landed in a city park and met
A fearful mob. Some beat me, others fled.
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A person can not be described
Completely in one simple word.
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If I danced beneath the moon,
If I let my long hair down,
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Come to me quick
With your bulging brown eyes.
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If eyes were pools, no pools would your eyes be,
Nor diamonds, nor abysses do I see.
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If in my waking hours you must be
A million miles away (though in my heart),
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There used to be and old oak tree
I'd swing from every day.
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I came so close, so very close
To calling you my own,
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