Poetry thread

for all those who write poetry place your here

here is one of mine.

Ill be right here with you.

Though it’s been a while since we have touched,
Since we clutched I’ll be right here with you.
Even though we are of far divide,
I am right here by your side.
No need to cry to need to groan,
I am here with you right at home.
I shall never be gone,
For you and I are forever.
Just as dust can scratch the eye,
You can feel my breath and hear my voice as whisper when I pass.
Even though I am in the grave,
I am right here with you.

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nice idea...i'll have to post ma song on here then

the stones of yore

down by the hills there ar some stones
that stand tall and strong in the suuun!
and back from the days of olden yore
is wence they cooome!

and the elder futhark
tells their wonderos tales
of war, triumphs and sorrowes
from the ages long paaaast!

and their crafters were the miiighty druids,
these masters of nature
that srived long, and hard,
to craft,these miiighty stones,
in the age ooof yoreee!!!

the end,
i hope you liked it

A girl sat on her house's steps
weeping her head in hands
her love has been taken by that of gold
now she lives her life alone

She calls to Devla she calls to Beng
she asks for help she asks for love
Devla replies, it is but fate I can not help
Beng replies, what would you give

The girl turns to Beng to see her love
Beng asks for nothing he says just wait
He blesses her looks he changes he face
he tells her of all that must be done

She takes the new love out at night
she takes the new girl out to Beng
in a blink of a night she takes the place
in a sleeping haze she takes back her prince

Morning comes the house wakes up
the new found princess takes her day
But Beng has played his evil trick
The true loves brother wakes as well

The brother strolls into the castle
He glances but once at the sister
But he sees a stranger with his eyes
the girl is revealed the girl's found out

The girl is struck down the girl is stoned
stones break bone, rocks draw blood
the girl turns white, the corpse lays still
Blood stains the cold grey cobble

The girl gave in, she turned to Beng
But Devla watches her passing away
He does not grow angry, he does not grow cold
Devla's tears wash the stone clean


I hope you like it, I'm not much of a poet but I thought I'd give it a try