To those of us that suffer from writer's block, as we all do from time to time.
`

and when you find
you cannot write
and will not write
read

read and scribble
until you are able
find your hand
again

and let the Muse
she your guide
your soul hide
again

and again find
your feet once more
in the shadows
read

`

Lovely Words Yours

Your words resound
In my deaf ears,
Oh now I can hear
With my eyes

Oh dears
All of you must arise,
As the sun does rise,
For you are the
Today’s of tomorrow,
Shred off all tears of sorrow
For morrow after morrow,
We shall meet
And
With tears of joy
Each other
Shall we all greet?

The messages of love
Gone and disappeared
Made the beloved sad
it was the only source
Of hope
for those
Who lost hope
Messages of love
always watering
Beloved souls
so how can I stop?
Writing for my friend
Loved
With a wink
In his style.

BY MONA THE SECOND ARABIAN NIGHTS

BY LOVED FREEST FREE STYLE

Very Nice

What of Friends You Know

Friends are like flowers,
They smile and open up,
You smell their flavour,
Then all is over
And
The petals fall off
One by one,
In quick succession

Twins of Nature

You sound so good

When ever
I read you
I feel poetry comes to you
As it does to me
But to me silently
To you furiously
Like a tsunami
That’s what poetry is
Now I blindly can see
Nay hear thee

SON rise
If you permit me
Rise!
In winter
One rarely sees a dawn,
Sunrise,
That’s how
We appreciate it
When it,
Does rise,
(I mean sun)
Does in spring rise
Was my wording
A dawning surprise
Rise,
I mean
Sunrise.

What A Memory

Magical Mona

Your power of observation
And memory
Is very great
On Triond I have by now written
3570 plus poems
In a just about two years
How a scientist can compose poetry
And
Pull out a crowd of poets
From doldrums of ancient poetic fallacy
Leaves much scope for birth
Of modern days Shakespeares
Like I call myself one

you quest the deep
I explored seasons ago
we are now,
both,
...empty

Hey ya'll ! Thought I'd get a bit of feedback before I decide to stream this...............

We've been there in every war
since 1812, maybe before
doomed, I have no idea why
to always fight and never die

Where ever brave men hate and fight
our platoon is within sight
with haggard faces and blank eyes
our conversations marked by sighs

And we remember each foe killed
both the cowards and strong willed
their looks of shock, complete surprise
appear each time we close our eyes

when Neopoet
went offline
and then I followed
it slowly to know
that all the works
were lost
I felt and still do
feel a careful desperate
loss

and an extraction of truth
that nothing is ever
truly certian in the world

I am glad to be back
that Neopoet is here

thank you