GwendolynWoodschild

Pretty words are like little birds; They fly out the window. ---- Where action Shows and gives traction To one's real intent.

Woman magic is such a thing That wondrous joys it does bring! But how it's made is curious, Its concepts spurious, Though it does create Things of beauteous fate. It starts with an idea, A creative galleria! Add a little bit of craft, Along with a dash of daft, One must go and dare To let their soul be bare. With the magic of heart Women at once to start Creating things to be enjoyed By using love and mind alloyed.

Roses are red, violets are blue, But this poem doesn't work for you! So Let's turn this whole thing about And figure a new one out- Jasmine's white blooms burst with scent, So rich it makes the heart rent, Roses come in a myriad of colors, To you I would give orange and no other, Honey's favor is heady and sweet, But your smile has them all beat!

Tear drops clean the painted tear The expression of my nonsensical fear Of life without you. Though you hold another in your arms And listen to Sally's haunted charms I put on a brave face to the empty air. I anticipate your voice with a smile And though we go on and on for a while The day's end comes too soon. All I do is hope one day That you see me in the same way So in happiness our souls may unite.

Heart bedside me, A hunk of ice on the ground. Hole inside me, The aches echo all around. Your love, so warm, It was the light in my day. Yet you say I'm cold From my eyes tears never stray. Without you I'm ice, Numb and frozen down to the core. No more love fire, 'Cause you dropped my heart on the floor.