English | Spanish | French | German | Portuguese| Italian

love poem

mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
pourquoi
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
je remplis cette tasse
avec la joie et la merveille
l'aube était vert pomme
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
laissez-moi être triste

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

  • Songwriting gurus share their secrets (The Myrtle Beach Sun News)
  • Love and Destiny at National Museum on Culture Night - IcelandReview
  • Attacked for singing the "black national anthem" - France24
  • Premier supports tax aid for racy film (Toronto Star)
  • Soldier Boy (New York Times)
  • STARGAZING | Stephanie Savage talks ‘Gossip Girl,’ Zack Snyder ... - Kansas City Star
  • Palestinian ‘Poet of Conscience’ Dies at 67 - St Petersburg Times, Russia
  • High Plains writing-award finalists announced - Billings Gazette
  • It is not a language of Muslims alone - Tribune
  • A case of poetic justice - Telegraph-Journal
  • Intoxicating Rhymes & Sobering wine: The life and times of Khayyam - Payvand
  • Vlad Musatescu - Al Conan Doi - Artline
  • What They Are Saying - Jewish Exponent
  • Barack Obama Speaks - ProLife Blogs
  • Late Benazir’s 55th birthday celebrations - Pakistan Link
 

Refinance your Mortgage today and save!

Get your Online Degrees today!

Mortgage News Archives

Poetry | Home | Contact Us | Educational Resources | Vote For This Poem | Visitor Favorites

Summer School Help Beginner Math Physics Primer Chemistry Primer Intro Psychology English Primer
Intro Grammar Beginner Writing American History American Civil War Intro Biology Composition Help


Check out El-Grande Web Directory today!


www.endlesspoetry.com ©Copyright 2004 - 2007 Michael VanDeMar All Rights Reserved