This will be my poetry page and listing of quotes.
Welcome to the forth Extension of The World in Progress site. Within this site I will post my poetry , some prose,also a listing of quotable quotes. My favorites of course. Oh, and by all means click on "progression" and visit the poetry sites that have been listed for your use.
Could thought too soon,be sought to cater ?
This will of thine,given the maker.
Clouds drift by a thwart for the sun.
No gift for one,not anyone.
Should the moon peak out of the dark
and not fear the night ?
It's courage it seems would come from the light.
This will of thine,soon to cater..
Its' own and mine sought the maker.
Given its' word, not always heard..
Eyes and smiles are liars.
They speak in expression..
but the means is repression.
And always misgiven in lesson..
These eyes and smiles of detention.
Solemn and enchanted the sunlight rides the tide.
Harboring its' neighbor - the river stems the ride.
Convictions less - this new found home for thee.
So when the Earth - it does rise and set.
These homelands gain leave..
To and fro in me.
One thought it seems,is by far fraid too much. To bare the weight of an others touch. A single breath,left unbroken that bares the weight,an others spoken.
As far it seems another kind,has had bid farwell and left those blind. Left far alone away at sea, this weight it seems will drown in me.
Not to wait or wait as such, this weight to bare seems no small crutch. Not to wait or wait too long, this wait it seems soon comes along.
The weight to bear anothers touch..
The wait to bare anothers touch...
A LAST BREATH
The smokers nightmare is always the last.
Remembering gone , far aways past.
Death in the lung and soon to go.
From whence we came and the end we go.
Endless love , the night will cast.
A soul is filled with smoke and dove.
We write in pain for will it go ?
The nightmare cast must last and last.
The Granted Trust
How it has traveled beyond the dark
I am the light that leads to its' own end
Clothed in shadow
A dove it leaves
Speaking to me from behind my eyes
Not of my mind or brain do you whisper
Masking as my soul
Cold , mechanical and sterile
We are but the vehicle
For the heartless thought
And yet we still listen
As it runs right through
As when those we despair
Quietly in our own
And never rust
I can not tell if you are there..
copyright : Peter G. Hutchins
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