Wows

With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
~
With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
~
With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.

~*~
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What a Rush

I want to write more love poems
and I want to do it soon.
I don’t want to write of heartache.
I want to snuggle beneath the moon.
~
I want to write more love poems
and express the love in my heart.
I want them to inspire
and be reminders when apart.
~
I want to write more love poems
and share one each and every day.
I want to write more love poems,
but to rush is not the way.

~*~
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Checking Out

Counting the days till days don’t count,
there’ll be no worries or any doubt.
There’s never to be a frown or a pout.
I could stay in or I can go out.
~
Counting the days for my time to sprout,
I’ll get up late with nothing to think about.
I can be really quite or scream and shout.
I’ll always be mellow and never freak out.
~
Counting the days to assume some clout,
each moment’s new with adventures to scout.
Destinations will be celebrations to tout.
The sun will shine with or without
~
Counting the days thought getting stout.
All will be friends, but for the lout.
I’ll need no maps and never to rout.
I’m never locked in or lucked out.
~
Counting days before the days run out,
when never a tear or ever a drought.
Choices all mine, all else to flout.
And blessings counted before checking out.

~*~
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