Ode to you

You are you,
I am I.
You read,
I sing,
you dance,
I ring,
we smile.
Both people,
different passions;
both equal,
different companions.
Gliding through your
way I'll be,
when you smile and laugh.
But the golden way will
you lead me, when
I'm upset
and crying.
I never shall
lose hope in you;
only that you,
you, you, you,
write poetry,
and I;
I, I, I, play songs.
Our love is not defining,
and I shall be so happy,
forevermore.

Haiku(s) for the Sea

It is beautiful
So sensational, blue,
Happy and joyful

The loud seagulls,
The cries of happy children,
Can you feel the sand?

Immense as the sky,
Serenely the waves crash
At the joyous beach

You laugh happily,
You smile, as the golden sun sets:
the seagulls silent.

Ode to dogs

They are of great joy:

those bundles of happiness,

energetic,

happy.

Those fast-swishing tails dart in the park,

and the loyal eyes glisten, as though in the dark.

The dark, damp wet nuzzles,

sniff at your knees,

and you laugh,

overjoyed,

and they bark,

overflowed,

and you restart the chase

one again.

In the blackest of days and the rainiest nights,

you won't be alone,

you won't be out-flown,

for there will be a friend to cuddle.

A friend to cuddle,

A friend to cuddle,

A friend to cuddle.

Years after,

you'll remember the times,

those loyal,

amazing partners

helped you in life.

helped you in life,

helped you in life.

To survive.

Ode to Roses

They are red as blood,

white as snow,

pink as candy,

and many more.

They have fresh, deep smell,

Sending shivers up your neck.

They contain delicate beauty;

so much meaning,

and love,

and magic;

they're almost tragic.

But how could they be,

as they're so soft,

careful,

and honest?

So sweet,

so keen to raise

their buds

up in the sky,

up into the blue,

daisy-like,

sea-like,

ocean-like heaven

of clouds.

How can they be blamed?

How can they be cut?

How can they be ripped out of the ground,

and separated from their many unique families,

and torn ruthlessly out of the soil that

you so carefully planted in your front garden,

or back-garden,

or anywhere else?

Sure to be living a long life,

full of beauty

and magic,

full of sorrow-less,

sin-less,

days,

they are.

Lest we forget them in years to come,

or let the gold planet never shine:

the sun.

And lest we keep singing,

this song to the flowers,

of many kind,

of different kind,

of the same use:

to make us happy,

to make us feel free,

to make us

feel

sin-less,

beyond

the degree.

This ode is for them,

to contain much emotion,

to make others think,

before they touch

what don't own.

This ode shall be for roses.