Category: Poetry

Poems of love!

Spring into Action!

Spring into action, don’t let love be just a meaningless reaction, but a beautiful attraction. Mathematics 101, hearts divided, love therefore, but a fraction. Something missing, if nothing added. Spring into action, may deep within your being, reside a fertile soul; for planting, harvesting. Ready the soil of thy heart, deeply be that of love’s inherent garden. Cultivate the aura of love’s serenity, dripping the fragrance of its nature, the nuances of its peace. What never allows, cumbersome weeds to stifle its colorful allure. In every season, love never needs a reason to flourish beautifully, bloom effortlessly; liken to an endearing flower. Showers of blessings, a heart basking within the precipitation of love’s forever reign. Allowing deep rooted love to grow, thrive, springing up to become that of a soul, with rose petals laid bare. March to the front of the line, real love will never decline. March to the beat of your own heartbeat, painted with the essence of love’s crimson hue. Throughout its garden, love leaps, love frolics, speaks from the heart with two lips. Planted tulips, breadth of love’s dew resting gently on the heart, likened to that of a wet kiss upon the soul, sweet fragrance of love lingering. Consider the lilies, how like love, it gives naturally of itself, what stems from its ornate beauty. Every day, nurture love until heart and soul spring into action. Never, allowing love’s garden to become neglected, ever parched, wither into nothingness void!

WCR

My Heart’s Rights, Writes!

Word(s) play, speak of relative pun, plain but yet of fun, indicative but of a different perspective. Writes have meaning, rights of words verbatim, heartfelt prose tethered in tandem. Two or three gathered in the midst, exploits of a heart’s love story. My writes sow, of love rightly so, heartstrings and bow. In my youth, thoughts my soul did restrain, but in love’s reign, unshackled my heart does write. Rights given by love have no blight, heart to pen words of delight, unbound love, writes without plight. A heart with insight, writes freely not bound by rights, freedom corresponds with the intent to give sight. Whenever words descend, with no hesitation they arrest my heart, read me my rights. Inked soliloquy writes, my soul’s innermost, my heart conditioned with perceptive rights. Pen, oh penned, thy ink detains the rights of my soul, with no restraint I am free. In the court of opinions, of love my heart writes. In life, actions judge the rights of words, galvanized thoughts written bled of heart and soul. Love, oh love, what right have you to ask of my heart, in perpetuity writes that have bared my soul? But nevertheless, not my will, but love’s ingenuity ink does spill. My heart, released on its own recognizance, bear witness to the breadth of love’s cognitive writes!

WCR

Motivation’s Sway; its Inherent Way!

The rhythm of blues, could never sway love’s crimson ways. If violet hues are of blue, then rose petals would say of a heart true, I love you. If a closed off heart perceives, love is blind, then how of mine? A heart wide open to know, if love can’t truly see, why giddily are so many, willing to then blindly fall… into love? Must be its sway. If, tainted glass is only of a reduction in perspective, then, why are many hearts amazed? How a reflective perception could be a shift in one’s mood, to become a painted expression of love’s subtle nuances. Must be of its way. If light shining, will always overwhelm darkness, leaving the darkness no way to overcome it? Then therefore, every heart’s innermost glow, likened to an incandescent lighthouse. Love’s solace of hope, beaming in the most darkened of moments. Must be to sway. They say, silent rivers run deep, but, this my heart has come to concede. Deep places won’t reveal itself, if one’s soul couldn’t fathom. Depth is a place of being, within a state of enlightenment. Swayed, knowing must be love the way!

WCR

Just!

Dreamer, every heart is an innate dreamer. Some fairy tales, dream of falling in love, while daydreams, gaze within the possibility of being in love. But, for me and my heart, it doesn’t dream of being; faithful love is about conceding, to staying. Everyday, Just, fall in love again. You see, every morning, my dreams do come true. When, my heart kisses, upon the love of my sleeping beauty, to let it awaken my soul. And all day long, my heart races to the ball, slow dance with the love of my Cinderella. DJ, play another slow jam, this time, make it sweet. To Just, with one glance, heart concurs with soul; Just, let it happen, fall breathlessly. For those moments, when the day plays with the mind, to capture the imagination, it encounters much resistance. The elasticity in my heart not swayed, to Just, let thoughts have its way, with my soul. Mind over what matters, a heart in tatters, enamored with love that only flatters. Real love, knows how to hold your gaze just right, how to grip your heart tight. Your every breath, not putting up a fight; Just, waiting to exhale. The soul eclipsed by radiant light, the heart saying it Just might, fall again. Magic, that must be its charm, how love does what it does; does the soul no harm, when it takes you by the heart. And even though, again and again it makes you fall; do it again, give love its due. My heart, will never justify my soul; it vowed to forever be, love’s useful muse. But, before my love became, Just; my heart first had to concede, it Must, fall… again!

WCR

Knock on Would!

When, love proves to your soul its true meaning, no heart, should ever instinctively knock Would. When, its enlightened breadth deepens your understanding, no knock off version of love, Would, ever be enough to sway a heart’s fundamental beliefs. So many hearts, carve their love in hopes and dreams, not realizing, the Would, becomes a symbolism, the act not becoming a euphemism. The commitment needs to be, to the love growing deeper, forever etched upon the depth of your soul? What will flourish profoundly, stands the test of time, proving, deep love will transcend time, and space. A heart, colliding with Would, never becomes love losing balance, but only spilling the essence of its beauty. Would, in of itself hollow, when its core intent has no inherent content, giving it context. Just, like how love resonates, Would, needs to echo verbatim, with its resounding tapestry. Rat-a-tat, why, must the dog chase the cat? A heart, never confident of its deepest breath, until the posture of its soul, exhales love’s heartfelt truth. That Would, by itself could never build love’s foundational bridge, if never tethered to something substantial. One’s inclination, just a feeling if not acted upon, the Would, having the potential, but the heart not willing to act. An expression of hope, Would, never accomplish anything, without faith empowering its purpose. A heart’s resilience, could never have the strength to knock down barriers, without it having the will that Would, make a tangible impression. Love, unapologetically pure, intentionally rooted, never a heart needing to, knock on Would!

WCR

Lost a Breath! 

The early years!

My heart, lost a breath, lost it within the depth of time, on it, sun doesn’t shine. I lost a breath, swept away by streams of love’s cascading breadth, deserting my heart within the sands of time. The remaining breaths of my soul, exhales now with the end in mind; how a moment in time, my breath I held. Oh, how I nurtured this breath, dedicated my soul to its purpose, kept its worth so close to my heart. But yet, now resting with the power to be, embraced within the heart of thee. So, my soul holds on to hopes, to dreams. My soul lost a breath, on the wings of love, it’s up and above the clouds, the only way to get there, fly on the wings of love. When, my heart takes its last breath, my soul won’t be at a loss, embracing my lost breath in love’s serenity. For, every lost breath is found, in peace like a river, finding its delight within love’s angelic hue. Every day, my soul senses something in the air, love breathing within the hollowness of my heart. Remnants of my beloved, hovers in the stillness, echoing the beauty of love’s quintessence. Along life’s journey, a heart full, inevitably loses a breath, for souls gasp when kindred. Heard it said, one can lose its mind, but, what does a mind have to do with it? When every breath you take, every step you make, love prevails. Baby steps, and with every deep breath, solace will confidently find; my cherished breath, nestled within love’s sublime. My heart, lost a breath, ascended to a celestial plane, but yet in me, its presence abides. Que sera, sera, what will be, will surely be!

WCR

Within Her!

Within her, daylight, her endearing might. She’s a warrior, but her heart so wide open, you capture her soul. Forever hold her gaze, with just the breadth of your love. The petals of her love, deep like that of a crimson flower. Her aura, cast so much light it brightens the moon’s glow. Her worth, eclipses the radiance of the sun. Her love, shimmers more radiant than all the stars, her presence is never far. Her beauty, if you can’t see it, you can’t see the silhouette of her heart. But here’s the thing, her wings, angelic for her heart is that of an angel. Her quintessence, her heart draped with the fabric of her love, displaying the texture of her soul. Like a tree, her love is deep rooted, will stand the test of time, won’t easily be swayed. And if, you treat her like a lady, sweetly you will taste and see. Her love will bee, the breathless fragrance of her heart and soul. Her motherhood, her sisterhood, her womanhood, essence of a woman!

*** Happy International Women ***

WCR

Heart to Pen!

Now, doesn’t change the course of then. Love flowed then, but now the ink bleeds deeply; from heart to pen. Words could never be lost, for when love pricks one’s heart, inked words spill, baring innermost of one’s soul. The pages of one’s life, depth of one’s love, cascade to form textured chapters of a love story. What’s consequential, overwritten by moments inconsequential. Love composed, never embarrassed by what its heart-felt pen composes. By design, the tapestry of one’s heart, instrumental in revealing the imagery of one’s soul, the love mosaically imprinting. Deep love, doesn’t draw meaningless lines, even its most subtle portrayal, an intrinsic silhouette of the heart’s aura. Words penned meaningful, not inkling of a heart typical, exposed through love reciprocal. Consisting, consistent, naturally refined consistency; inking heart and soul. Penning thoughts, journaling one’s lived experience, texturizing the heart’s quintessential hue. Love moves, the soul it proves, but the heart it behoves; seep inked. For now, doesn’t change the course of then. Love flowing even then, now bleeds profusely, from heart to pen!

WCR

Love, the Gravity!

Within its profound breadth, its gravity known, the heart breathless in its sublime, the soul speechless in its boundless rhapsody. Which heart can comprehend, the complexity of its deep breathlessness, the vast nature of love’s beauty? What soul can explain, how so profoundly it moves you to tears, then soothe your fears? How it touches you so deeply, to utterly take your breath? Who can boldly claim, they know how its presence lingers, in the still of the moment? Can anyone’s words articulate, how it weighs tenderly on one’s thoughts, then go rest gently on the heart, only to stir your soul? What heart can describe, how at one moment it leaves you gasping for air, but yet at the very same time, be the air you breathe? The magnitude of its gravity, consequential essence of character, the soul’s quintessential reprieve. Every heart, needs to understand the significance of its power, the sustaining substance of its existence. It’s not enough, for one’s soul to know its miraculous wonder, yet one’s heart not be provoked by the depth of its deepest meaning. The gravity, the prevailing breath that’s not just felt, but perceived, be wholeheartedly believed; meaningful. Hearts willing, what makes it transformative, souls tethered, makes it revolutionary. A love that shines like the sun, glistens like the stars. Reflective like that of the moonlight, hovering breathlessly within the stillness. Transcending the fabric of time, and space. Not even distance, changes the trajectory of its vantage point, alter the gravity of its destiny; to be!

WCR

By Design; Textured Love!

Pigmented Tapestry!

Etched within the pages of time, the colorful imagery of life, love, hopes, dreams. Its heartfelt tapestry woven, every breath embolden, let its every breadth exude. The Silhouette of one’s heart, revealing deeply what moves, what behoves, what proves. If love’s essence pigments your soul, texturizes it richly? Love’s vibrant hue, painting the heart with such a vivid portrayal. Freckled perception, pigmented with the beauty of love’s conception. Figurative, substantive, creative. Heartstrings tethered, by its breathless muse, the depth found within, love’s pigmented tapestry!

Tangible Love!

Within its touch, within its essence, within its embrace, within the feeling, its holistic nature. Beyond fleeting emotions, beyond words, beyond what seeps, beyond what moves; to what’s palpable, to what’s notable, what’s evident. Love’s tangible gift, what makes the heart glad. What takes you by the heart, walks you alone through the moonlight, what wakes you with a kiss in the morning, when no one’s home. That is, what is, tangibly love!

**By design, a collaboration of my late daughter’s spirit and my soul, giving my heart inspiration to create these designs. Each are pieces of different elements; pictures, drawings, paint swatches, inserted and manipulated within several design apps, together creating the final design. To be a legacy in the making, love’s ornate breadth by design! ***

Hope you have enjoyed these latest designs, blessings and peace!

WCR c/o Justinea Angelina Richards