On a guitar of time, he played pleasant tunes,
the rhymes of his life were sung by the moon.
Always keep moving, he never looked behind,
stepped to the beat tunes played in his mind.
Many wise words he sang, so lovely the sound,
composed with chords that kept peace around.
I sometimes get visions and with them shivers,
as I think of the legend that traveled this river.
I wish it were true, that he wrote such a song,
when the world heard it, we'd all sing along.
A bunch of flowers,
A homemade cake,
That special gift,
A birthday steak.
After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In
She tells him she loves him when she doesn't care,
all along she plays this game unfairly
In the darkness, in the silence,
Only faint memories of joy are heard.
Overrun by
I wish there were words to express how I feel,
But no words I see will do.
No wor
you have been my friend for a very long time
I asked you to bend and you made a rhyme
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"
Are the words you'd hear Will Shakespeare say.<
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaningful walk,
Until I met you my heart stood still
Like the moon and the sun
Their love is true
Some people view forgiveness,
As a virtue for the weak.
An act of Mercy undeserve
