Guest post of Poetry

An other great post has been sent in by Jane Love (almost wrote Jane Eyre, but she is not that old classic of course 🙂 ). Enjoy!


Heart Pangs

From dusk to dawn…
From stretches to yawn –
Thoughts of you race through my mind.
The very moment I sleep,
Your beautiful face starts to creep
Into a dream that I frequently find
Myself in.
For every night in it, you ride
On your way to meet me
At the church where all will see
My hands lift the veil off you, my bride.
As the priest spoke,
To focus and wait is what I tried.
But whenever I stared at you…
At your beauty – my patience broke.
When we kissed, all cried.
And those who minded were quite a few.
Now you know you’re a professional thief.
Because every night you steal my dreams
Only to stay for a period that’s too brief.
Thus leaving me shedding streams
Upon my awakening.
All because you’re no longer here, my love.
You’ve gone too soon.

Weekly(?) Poetry #7 – from favourites

Edgar Allan Poe


A dream within a dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow–
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand–
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep–while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

(Edgar Allan Poe)

Weekly Poetry, #5 – Guest Post 3 by Jane Love

And the third part of her trilogy, as we scheduled

beauty girl cry



Five days you were in a coma
Five days when i thought it was over
Our newfound love demolished by karma’s single maneuver
It took you out like a ranger
Thus putting my life in danger


Cause baby you can’t have forgotten
That without you am nothing
God, you’ve got to bring him back
Or i can’t do anything
I remember the most recent chapter
Of our relationship
Your smile, your laughter
Your sportsmanship.
We were supposed to live happily ever after
In this lovely partnership

– – – – – – – – –  – – –

This is the desire
That i voiced out to my Messiah
If he saved you, I would lift him higher.
I’m no liar
So am bound to keep my word
As long as my request is granted by God
And you return back to this world
to be united with me – your love.

– – – – – –  – – –  – – –

You and I are meant to be

I will never let go of thee

So, if you so desire to go,

Take someone ….. Take me.

Weekly Poetry, #2 – Guest Post by Jane Love

Welcome to an other episode of poetry. This time, instead of another work from me, a piece written and sent to me by Jane Love.

This is the first work out of her poem trilogy. Other two works are also on the schedule: 12th and the 19th of April. Something to put into your calendar perhaps?! 🙂

Images are  provided by the guest poster, and  they are linked to her site Harmonious Joy.



This was supposed to be a splendid date-

a setup involving a strategically placed bait

that may eventually lead to a life-long mate.

But i am afraid you will have to wait-

I may be a little Late.


As i crossed the highway road,

i was freed from my heavy load

because when i exited the shop,

out of my hands – flew the cake.

Down on the ground i did drop

after i was hit by a car with no brake.


You will probably think my love confession was fake

and throw our conversation into anger’s lake

for what i hear from Dr. Blake

is that i may never wake.


Baby, i am alone on this track.

My body feels as though it was crushed by a bowling rack.

Everywhere i look seems black.

Yet even in this darkness,my love for you will never lack.


Dearest, i’m scared.

Should i come back?

Or should i go on being dead?

Today’s poem: what’s beauty

And we are at it again. The love and promotion of something has been important for milleniums: Reading. And this time about beauty, expressed by Lord Byron, what he (probably) saw as beauty.

Beauty is impossible to define, even though every age tried, more recently Hollywood had countless (awful and failed) attempts to do so, when it came to humans, but just can’t. Isn’t it and should be something different for all of us?!

And even outside the scope of human appearance. A moment in a day, a gesture, a look, a music piece, or, like for me in the case of my favorites, like below, a nice read:


She Walks In Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

George Gordon Byron
Lord Byron (1788-1824)


Poetry night, a start of a weekend

Good evening, night or even morning, depends on which part of the globe this post finds you!

Another little selection out of my personal favorites from classical literature, and within, poetry. Nice start of a weekend (at the time of writing it is a friday eve, 11.20 p.m. here in the Netherlands), and besides my Reads section should grow. After all, I do firmly believe in that reading is fundamentally important for the mind. It sharpens, helps evolving, vitalizes, and it can be a joy. Given your choice of book or article is the right one for you personally.

Without much further ado, here are the selected ones:


Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

(by Mary Elizabeth Frye)


A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

(by William Blake)