Passions in Minute Poerty

Passions in Minute Poerty

Show me tender caring passions Not with fashions But with desire And burning fire Ecstasy, together we feel Moments we steal Passions do rise Under night skies Our love is of perfect rapture In recapture Come hold me, dear I need you near Poem Style – Minute Poetry / Poem Catagory – Love Written by Lady Kathleen

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The Wizard’s Apprentice

The Wizard’s Apprentice

The wizard’s apprentice was working, as his master often made him, on gathering herbs and cooking meals and whatever else he bade him. So much was the apprentice’s labor that he seldom had time for sleep. while his master slept in a nice warm bed, he had to bed down with the sheep. One day while the Wizard was brewing a particularly potent brew, the wizard’s apprentice snook off for a nap for only a moment or two. He woke up to hear an angry voice calling out his name. It was the voice of the wizard, saying “Boy! get me some wolf bane!” “We are out of it” the boy replied, “will Saint John’s Wort suffice?” “NO!” said the wizard “go get some, and don’t make me tell you twice!”...

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What do I really feel

What do I really feel

How do I explain feeling I have never felt before, Especially when they are feeling I can’t ignore. These feeling come from my heart, I have felt them from the start. The moment I met you I knew you were rare, And you seemed to be the answer to my prayer. For some time I have been empty inside, And felt I just wanted to run and hide. You came to my life a short time ago, And made the feeling in my heart grow. Did God send you from the heavens above? Could what I feel for you really be love? Poem Style – Rhyme / Poem Catagory – Love Written by Lady Kathleen

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Oldest Memories

Oldest Memories

I Oldest memories of a time long ago I thought was just a dream set aglow. Water surrounds the world I see and it was closing in on me. The red of blood through waters deep draw closer now with no sound to speak. A symbol now is what does reveal and spark A wavy shape, I see, of two white crossed marks. II If not a dream, then what memory And what does this memory mean? The truth be known in later years That it was a memory with tears. My oldest memories that haunts me to this day Is of a time where death called but I got away. For I fell into a pool as a young baby of three And to the bottom sinking down soft and free. As a gallant man jumped in to save the young lass And he wore swimming trunks of red with white crosses A thing that was in my mind now and then...

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