"Never Knew Love Like This Before"

I never knew love like this before
Now I'm lonely never more
Since you came into my life
You are my lovelight,
 this I know And I'll never let you go
Your my all, you're heart, part of me
Once I was lost and now I'm found
Then you turned my world around
When I need you, I call your name
 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
Opened my eyes 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
What a surprise 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
This feeling's so deep inside of me
Such a tender fantasy
You're the one I'm living for 
You are my sunlight and my rain
And time could never change
What we share forever more Ooooh-whooooa
 I never knew love like this before
Now I'm lonely never more Since you came into my life
 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
Opened my eyes 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
What a surprise 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
You are my lovelight, this I know
And I'll never let you go
Your my all, you're part of me
Once I was lost and now I'm found
And you turned my world around
When I need you, I call your name
'Cause I never Knew love like this before
Opened my eyes 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
What a surprise 'Cause I never Knew love like this before
Inside of me (I never) never Knew love like this before
Opened my eyes (Never) never, (never) never (Never knew love like this)
 

~ Stephanie Mills ~ 
her angelic voice enhances the poignant lyrics....thank you so much for sharing
Teaching a Child the Art of Confession
~David Shumate

It is best not to begin with Adam and Eve. Original sin is baffling, even for the most sophisticated minds. Besides, children are frightened of naked people and apples. Instead, start with the talking snake. Children like to hear what animals have to say. Let him hiss for a while and tell his own tale. They'll figure him out in the end. Describe sin simply as those acts which cause suffering and leave it at that. Steer clear of musty confessionals. Children associate them with outhouses. Leave Hell out of the discussion. They'll be able to describe it on their own soon enough. If they feel the need to apologize for some transgression, tell them that one of the offices of the moon is to forgive. As for the priest, let him slumber a while more.
The Goose

Do you want to know why I am alive today?
I will tell you.
Early on, during the food-shortage,
Some of us were miraculously presented
Each with a goose that laid a golden egg.
Myself, I killed the cackling thing and I ate it.
Alas, many and many of the other recipients
Died of gold-dust poisoning.


~ Muriel Spark
Some wonderful poems shared here. 
Thank you all  for the inspiration. 

 Invictus, by William Ernest Henley

 Out of the night that covers me,
 Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

 In the fell clutch of circumstance
 I have not winced nor cried aloud.
 Under the bludgeonings of chance
 My head is bloody, but unbowed.

 Beyond this place of wrath and tears
 Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years Finds,
and shall find, me unafraid.

 It matters not how strait the gate,
 How charged with punishments the scroll.
 I am the master of my fate:
 I am the captain of my soul.
Love's Philosophy

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle
Why not I with thine?

See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother:
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea -
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
I see others have posted their favorite poems. I hope I am not being out of line if I post one of my poems. All my poems are original and I have three that have actually been published. The following is what I consider one of my best. Thank you for allowing me to post.

My Beach

Grains of sand on a pristine beach.
I gaze in awe at the turquoise Gulf.
Ospreys circle, seeking morning prey;
Sandpipers scurry to shun the eddy.

Sunlight rides the rainbows, edge.
Across the horizon, waters remain steady.
My day has started. Breaths of sea air
To bask in this warmth be my only pledge.

Lost in this paradise I seek no fame.
Inside my world, no cross to bear
Solitude surrounds; none calls my name.
This Eden, creation with no one to share.

Isolation, this prison of my own creation.
I park on my beach, salty tear on my cheek,
The space before me longing to be filled by,
Someone to share my greatest design.

Encircled by others oblivious to my presence,
They see me not to exist in their eye.
No acknowledgment of my true essence
This beach, this sand, these birds on the fly.

My fate to be alone, no mate for my soul.
My mortality creeps, ever so measured.
In my life I have but one true goal
Find the one whose love I will have treasured.

Bobby
Wow- Bobby!

Your poem truly struck a chord deep down in my soul.

 It could have been my own (except I couldn't have written it so beautifully!)

Many a time I have parked at the beach with the same feelings of desolation and loneliness.

Thank you for sharing.

Wanda
Thank you Wanda. Yes it is one of my best. My reward is the nice comments I get from folks like you that enjoy reading my work.

Part of my bio on Amazon say's "I endeavor to entertain my readers" hopefully that happens.

Writers crave recognition, but a boat load of cash would be nice also... :D
The Turtle
-Mary Oliver

breaks from the blue-black
skin of the water...
to dig with her ungainly feet
a nest...
and you think
of her patience, her fortitude,
her determination to complete
what she was born to do-
and then you realize a greater thing-
she doesn't consider
what she was born to do.
She's only filled
with an old blind wish.
It isn't even hers but came to her
in the rain or the soft wind,
which is a gate through which her life keeps walking.
she can't see
herself apart from the rest of the world
or the world from what she must do
every spring.
Crawling up the high hill,
luminous under the sand that has packed against her skin.
she doesn't dream
she knows
she is a part of the pond she lives in,
the tall trees are her children,
the birds that swim above her
are tied to her by an unbreakable string.
The Good-Morrow
John Donne 

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved?
Were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
 If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.

And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
 For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.

Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,

 And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres,
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.
 
cron