The Poet

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The Poet
A page of poetry dedicated to the poet,
The poet speaks for those who have no voice,
The poet is sometime a voice for the silent heart ,
A poet gives words to unspoken feelings
A pen is a release to feelings,
A poet is a weaver of love's dreams
And at times a voice for God.

The Poet Weeps

She has her own way of crying,
Her tears fall in her words,
Sometime she feels them flying,
Like the soulful songs of the birds,
Some people's tears are salted,
As they fall on the cheeks,
Her tears are in the pen,
She writes what she weeps.

She cries the words of her heart,
Her tears come from out of her soul.
She writes quietly in the dark,
Of tears that never show.
A poet's tears fall,
Where they may not be heard.
With a pen she cries,
Each tear becomes the word.

She has her own way,
Of healing her broken heart.
The words come so easy in the dark.
Some people cry salted tears,
As they run down the cheeks,
Words are the tears,
That the poet weeps.

The Poet's Tear

The poet whispers soft words that she feels,
From the beggar of heartache's cold night chills,
The thief came silently in the dark,
And silently stealing the heart,
No traces that he was here,
Other than the poet's tear.

She writed the words others can't speak,
She feels the tears others can't weep,
She sees the world too crystal clear,
She hears the silent cry whispered in her ear,
Her words become the poet's tear.
She feels the heartache and the pain,
She feels the gentle mist of rain,
She feels the touch of God so near,
Her words become the poet's tear.

The poet speaks

She speaks the words of the heart,
That the lips may deny,
She cries the tears,
That someone else can't cry,
In her pen,
Words seem to take wings and fly,
To dreams,
that long to live,but too often die.
She hears the words that the heart keeps,
The poet speaks,

For all those who bare silent pain,
She speaks for the wind and the rain,
For all the babies before their birth,
She speaks for mother earth,
For the tears on someone's cheeks,
The poet speaks.

She has a heart that cares
, For those in the dark ,
for all the unspoken prayers,
For the hope in those who dare,
And for those who's cross is to heavy to bare,
She prayers the prayer for peace,
She longs for war to cease,
And she believes in th moment to seize,
She hears the unsaid words,
of nature,the birds and the tree,
Her voice is carried across land and sea,
She offers comfort to ease the heart,
She sees the light shine in the dark,
She knows what others need,
Sheds tears for thos
e who bleed,
Plants love's seed, Her eyes look deep.
She sees the tears others weep,
While others sleep,
The poet speaks,

With echoes from a dark past,
And secrets of the past,
No questions asked,
Of tears others weeps,
The poet speaks

The Poet's Voice

Wisdom is sometime hidden,
in some words hearts have imprisoned,
But given freedom by a poet's vision.
For those who let their hearts listen.

Voice for those who can't speak,
Gently show the tear that hides their cheek,
Weaver of words, gentle weave comfort to others,
Feelings the desires inside of secret lovers.

Lighting fires with passionate words.
Giving lyrics to the song of wild birds,
Masterful artist with a touch of the pen,
Create the image from feelings within.

Seeing deep into the eyes like the windows of the soul,
Taking hearts to heights that only in their dream can go,
Soaring the sky to stars and beyond,
With the dreams of peace for everyone.

A voice of the wind,
And the wave from the sea,
The earth whispers softly,
Be speak gently with me.

Painting a picture of life it's self,
For all that will listen.
Reminding the world of their wealth,
Feeling the earth's pain and the rain's misting.

Breath to words that lay in silence,
Hidden beneath the storms of violence.
Tears for those who never cry,
As weary hearts lay down to die.

The pen writes on while others sleep,
The poet feels a tear on Someone's cheek,
Of silent words that they can't speak

A poet is born

Words are only words,
when used without the
heart,
or without feelings,
Once they have intertwined with the heart,
A poet is born.
and words become poetry.

Words without meaning,
are just letters of the alphabet
jumbled together,

Words without feeling.
Are nothing.

The voice of those who can't speak,
can only be heard,
if someone writes their feelings.

Words can break all
silence.
and with the heart, words become lyrics for the music,
of love.

Words are only words,
when used without the heart,
or without feelings,
Once they have intertwined with the heart,
A poet is born.
and words become poetry.

The poet and the Busker.

The busker providing a musical or entertaining ambience ...
Her words...enterw
ined into his heart..
Across a ocean , carried as if by wave or wind,
To a unknown friend,
His music gave voice to her feelings,
Her song became his.
Perhaps they were always meant to be connected,
Maybe it was fate.
Passing stars that came close enough to sparkle
in the other's light,
Time and distance were of no consquence.
The connection was of the heart and mind.
The music played softly and seem to gently travel
through time and space.
across the starry skies ,
and ocean of blue,
until his music found her heart,
playing softly in the lonely night,
as she danced under the moonlight,
He rose to the sunrise,
He had dreamed that he had touched the rose.
For a brief moment they had found
a way to reach past mere human existence,
to find a connection of hearts and souls.
The poet and the Busker.

Whispered to deaf ears

Sometime invisible tears,
fall heavy on the heart,
Sometime love is whispered to deaf ears,
Laying quietly in the dark,
Sometime heartache hides,
For you can't always stop love at will,
Sometime love survives,
Even the coldest winter chill,
When the tears stay inside,
Noone can see what you feel.
When you have cried,
Silent tears in the dark,
Sometime love can survive,
A broken heart.
A flame still seems to come alive.
And burns in the winter chill,
For you can't always stop love at will.
Who knows the secrets a heart will hide,
As it cries invisible tears,
Who knows the pain of love inside,
As it whispers quietly to deaf ears

Tell them I'm here

You are my voice in the dark night,
When others don't ear,

I'll give you the song of my heart,
To be a light in the dark,

For those who walk in fear.
When the light seems dim,
Tell them I'm here.

Some are deaf,
some are blind.
If only they searched,
I'm easy to find,

Feel the tears I have wept,
Feel the rain and the sunshine,
Feel the smile when prayer helped,
Feel the peace of mind.

And than be the voice for me,
And for all of those who can't speak,
Give comfort to those,
who knell at Calvary,
So close to my robe
And when you see a tear on their cheek,

For those who walk in fear.
When the light seems dim,
Tell them I'm here.

There are some dark valleys that are walked in,
And there are mountains to be climbed.

I sent my Son to wash away the sin,
To heal the sick
, and to give sight to the blind.

Be my voice so others can hear.
As tears fall like salt on their wound,
Remind them that my Son left a empty tomb.

For those who walk in fear.
When the light seems dim,
Tell them I'm here.

Poet's travel

I have traveled a lifetime in the universe,

In my mind I find a poetic verse,
Sometime I have lived under a lover's curse.
In my mind,
I have traveled the universe.

I have lived past lifetimes,
in my mind,
I have traveled over mountains,
That some may never climb,
I have reached the stars ,
that some may never find,
I have seen the star in the night,
And I have stood in God's light

I have traveled the universe,
I travel as I write a poetic verse,
I have seen heartache's tears,
and felt the world's hurts.
Sometime I have fell,under a lover's curse.
I have traveled the universe.

I reach for the star,
And I find,
In my mind,
I travel the universe.
I travel the soft grass and the meadow,
Across valleys of wild flowers so yellow,
I climb mountains,
and I fly ,
to new stars in the sky,
I travel light on my course,
To the stars and the universe

Touched by the tears of the weeping willow,
Watching soft white clouds.
make a angel's pillow
as heaven and earth intewrwine,
in the poet's heart and mind,

Only the heart can unravel,
The road of poet's travel

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