that person knowing the love for them grows.

To him it’s not true it’s just a fairy tale I dream,

Then only if he knew how I feel and how shivers run

down my back.

He only listens to his friends and doesn’t follow his heart,

and if he did it would be a magnificient start.

The farther our relationship falls away,

The darker and darker our skes turn gray.

The flowers go dead and the trees droop their leaves,

The sky gets so dirty there is no longer a breeze.

Then the more we grow together,

the more the leaves grow and the flowers come back,

now our sky is bright blue and no longer black.

Love is magic that hides behind us all,

and if we keep hiding our heart it will only fall.

Author: Millie

A dozen she would adore

I tremble as I think

To visit her once more

My attire is ragged

But she cares not

For she is lonesome

In her eternal spot

I approach, so

Calm and still

Walk up slowly

To my knees I kneel

I touch her granite face

Through time, has stayed the same

I press my hand against her

And run my fingers over her name

And lay down

Her roses

Author: Colby

To his peers all he feels like is Mr. Deeds.

His generosity abused.

Jealousy is most prevalent and often used.

Detached it seems.

Everyone he meets he shines and gleems.

No one can understand his dreams.

Theirs no I team.

He trys not to care.

All he wants is a pair.

Being on his own he doesn’t know how he’ll fair

He needs to step up and take the dare.

He realizes change is his friend.

With this he has conradery he’ll  be better off in the end.

Author: Anthony

and the wind begins to blow.

Tall trees bend over,

as if touching there toes.

Streaks of lightning dart

across a pitch black sky.

It looks to me as if lightning can fly!

As lightning flashes,

a picture God is taking.

For all moments in time

are of his making.

A ‘CLAP!’ of thunder

frightens anyone around.

It is so freaking loud

that bone rattling sound.

It all starts with a single raindrop,

as the clouds let loose their fury.

Here comes the down pour,

I must run home in a hurry!

The rain comes down like a wild stampede

there’s no one on earth

that can stop it indeed.

The puddles form streams,

and the streams form rivers.

When it rains in the Winter,

it gives me the shivers.

When it rains in the Winter,

it gives me the shivers.

As fast as it came

it is gone agian.

The sun comes out,

and the cycle begins.

I love it when it rains

for it gives life to the flowers.

I could watch it all day

or jsut a few hours!

Author: Kassi

Between evil and good

You feel so much pain

And so misunderstood

But your time will come

Where good will fight back

If you don’t believe

Then it is faith that you lack

You need to have faith

And you need to dream

It’s ok to cry

And it’s ok to scream

You need to look

For the signs that are shown

They will show you the way

To a future unknown

Listen to your heart

Follow it proud

Sometimes it’s quiet

Sometimes it’s loud

Be open minded

Your destiny awaits

See where life takes you

See what it creates

Just remember this balance

When life gets you down

And believe something’s coming

To change it around

There’s balance in life

Between evil and good

Everything will work out

Just the way that it should.

Author: Amanda

www.poetryamerica.com  to see more poems…

Will slowly make its trek

Across a sky of blue

Drag me into the day

To face the sun of light

Hours of sleep denied

Until stars brighten the sky

Moon hovers up high

Days end finally arrives

Tuck myself into the night

Dark steals the fading light

Another day closes its door

Tomorrow a ball of light

Will rise to meet the sky

With shining light of hope

Pull me from my nightly sleep

Propel me into the morning light

Escort me from sunrise to sunset

Tomorrows will keep arriving

Sun delivering its promise

Brightening days of future

For all my tomorrows

I’ve yet to live

Sun and I will rise

Author: Sharon

www.poetryamerica.com for more poems…

Seems like it was only yesterday, bouncing them on

my knee.

What a joy it has been watching them grow.

Being so very proud of them and letting it show.

From helping the ride their frist bike to rteaching

them how to swing a bat.

Them teaching me new math and how to kick a

soccer ball, how about that!

So proud we were, takin gthe older on off to college,

helping Her move into Her new world.

Then it was time to go, say good luck, and our good byes.

But as I said, Do your best and I love you, I saw the

tears in Her eyes.

She may be grown, but I’m leaving My little girl! is all

I could realize.

Now, looking at Her sister and knowing She’s not far behind.

Wishing I had a way.  To turn back the time!

Love, Dad

apparently draining out.

Your very being hangin in the balance

while waging the final bout.

With the respirator your umbilical cord

barely affording you life’s breath.

While standing on the threshold between

life and eternal rest.

So feebly I am writing with a brokenheart which may

never heal.

Because mere words are barely adequate to express

how melancholy I feel.

COuld it be your destiny, old buddy, to

come to such an untimely end.

Seems just yesteray we said hello and already it’s

time to say goobye forever

my dear friend.

Is this a new begining or the unclimatic end?

The battle though fought with fervor is futile becasue

the grim reaper will always win.

One day no matter how we try to prolong it, we’ll all

face that final bout.

I just wonder will I see you when my time clock runs out.

Author: William

Marjorie Stamm Rosenfeld

Beneath the Holy Land,
where even water wars are fought,
the troubled springs run deep.
And water, which has properties
to wear on stone, has split the rock.

                                     Lord . . .

                                                   my shepherd.

About suffering, Stefan Grass said,
“Suffering is like salt, bitter in a glass.
Become a lake instead—then sip the water.
You’ll see how sweet it tastes,
with hardly any hint of bitterness.”

               (The Jaffa oranges are sweet
               and bigger than grenades.
               We’ve moved our fences farther in.
               Our neighbors claim the land we left,
               then ours.)

                                     Beside the still waters . . .

Sbarro Pizza,
where a young man opens up his coat,
says to the girl behind the counter,
Know what this is?
so like the exhibitionist
who bares his misused, misplaced
instrument of love
explosively.

                                     He maketh me to lie down . . .

                                     In green pastures

tents of Palestinians
are buffeted by angry winds,
their throats are parched.
The houses of the Palestinians collapse.

                                     In the house of the Lord,

another scene:  From one side
comes a swarthy man and from the other,
one more swarthy man—
sons of the same father.
They face off, raise their instruments,
and aim.  Which will give ground?
Which strike the other first?
Raging thirst propels them.
Nearby the only lake
that’s fresh and clear
is Lake Tiberius,
called the Sea of Galilee.
It, too, is troubled water.
Further south, the sea is dead
and full of salt.  How many
Abrahamic sons must fall?

                                      Through the valley of the shadow,

a great tree arches over the River Jordan.
It is the tree of the Jewish people.
It is the tree of the Palestinian people.
Its leaves shudder in the wind,
on every leaf a name.

*Hebrew word for “Thirst”

Please Check out more poems on our site at www.poetryamerica.com