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Please vote for Tammy's poem title "Poetry" by the little infinite poetry for life poetry contest sponsored by Ingram Spark. "Poetry" "Poetry" comes from deep within That is where the story begins "Poetry" is a form of art That touches your heart and soul right from the start Whether Spoken, Written or in a Song "Poetry" brings you in and takes you along written by Tammy Spears (copyright) Thank you for your support of ArtsKeeper artists!

Does a thought have a life after its birth? Can it travel in time from one mind to another across mountains and oceans and even farther? Some call it mental telepathy... I think it lives on indefinitely. What say you? ©️ Lorene Rogers 4-26-23

              JUST THINKIN’   My new shirt arrived today I hate it! It’s flat-out horrible with those ridiculous white pistachio nuts on a wine background! It doesn’t go with anything except my corduroy vest - the loden green one that’s too frickin’ hot to wear, for Pete’s sake - it’s like 90 degrees outside!   but – I got it on sale for six dollars…   Lorene Rogers ©      6-8-2023                   

Forever in my memory, The hot white sands, So blinding bright, Under the deep blue sky, By the emerald waters, The Gulf of Mexico, Pathway to an infinity Of adventures, which, in time, Became memories stored beside The hot white sand, Deep blue sky, Emerald green water. Donovan Baldwin

Begins with broken words, Scattered pieces of her heart, Joining shard to shard, Begins to hum a half-forgotten tune, Swaying, almost dancing as she works, Hears another voice join in, Stranger hands her A piece that fits, She accepts with A smile, And soon, Her heart is completed again And can hold the words Which will become poetry, And they both smile. • Donovan Baldwin

You are not lost The shadow man Of glorious spirit Passion flowing Words like velvet Desires felt not on skin By heart beats Pounding inside Where nobody sees But you

one day she took wing urged by a broken angel to soar skies of love ----- they look at my words all that anyone can see poet anonymous ----- restless all these years bound punished and degraded by family and friends then love she'd never known in forms she had not dared dream was shown her by a master the velvet restraints seemed to be just made for her his arms her safest place so she entered into love gave herself to gain it all he already wished for her ----- she is a true muse words of love trust and desire given me to use ----- do not be ashamed to profess the love you feel in honest open words ----- i keep watch for you the muse who speaks from her heart longing to touch you to be touched by you ----- will you be my words images that fill my mind rhythm that drives me ----- i will write of you though our names have never met and we love alone ----- our small universe two leaves on the same tree doomed to never meet ----- the words you have caused love stories you've inspired starring you and me ----- love lay beside her in the dirt and mud her treasure disdained by one who should hove loved her, but left her... another lifted her cherished her eternal gift in the chapel of his heart the love chambers of their bodies ----- once woke beside love so long that place is empty only filled with dreams ----- opens her pages begging me to write my words her nectar my ink ----- i've long lived with dreams reality passed me by and you left as well ----- tried to give you love but despite freedom offered i was not your dream ----- gave all that i could asked so little in return got much less than that ----- i dreamed of a muse who understood my need for her who urged me to love her ----- poet and his dream never met but we became the greatest lovers ----- stripped of her heavy armor stinking wet with fear and tears naked to his loving arms safe here she can weep safe here she can be herself safe here she can leave that terrible world behind safe here in his loving arms ----- love's about secrets not those hidden but shared proudly and with trust ----- i have quit hoping much too old to have such dreams but still they come ----- i've spent life alone amidst crowds and gaiety wandered like a ghost • Donovan Baldwin

seeing you watching i extend invitations disguised as poems • Donovan Baldwin

The rain beats rhythms on your skin A symphony of secret sin. I trace them as they strike and flow Lips and tongue behind the go. Breathless, I chase the silver sting, A thirst for wildness, on the wing. Your skin, a canvas, etched with rain, My lips, medicine for your pain. Breathless, I pursue each drop Hoping storms will never stop. Your body only clothed by rain So tempting to my fevered brain. You my feast neath weeping sky, Dance seductively as I Touch and taste and drink my fill Fingers drifting where they will. So let the rain caress your skin, Awash with past and future sin, A promise in those beating drops, Arousing love that never stops. • Donovan Baldwin

Back story: In 1967, two army buddies and I went to Disneyland, in Anaheim, California. While walking past one of the buildings, I saw a girl, who smiled at me as I passed. I got a photo of that face. Looked at it from time to time over the years, and wondered who she was and whatever happened to her. This poem is that memory and the subsequent wondering. One Girl's Face Fifty years ago I passed, and, Tried to read in one girl's face, Two stories; hers and mine. Mine was fantasy with her as the heroine. Was I in hers? I doubt she ever saw me. I have no knowledge of her story, But, I could sense shadows of dreams Behind her eyes, which stared out Towards a place, where surely, Something wonderful was happening. Did she long to go there, In that fantastic world? Did someone ride to save her, From the boredom of daily drudgery? In her story, was her simple dress Transformed Into a gown most beautiful? Was her soft dark hair topped, With a bejeweled tiara? There are, as I was told, a million Faces I might see, and each a story, I will never be allowed to read. So, what I read in one girl's face, Was, and must remain a romantic mystery. Perhaps some day, that girl herself, Now as old as I, may tell in her own words, The story that her eyes beheld that day That only they could see, and she could read, The story told beyond, or perhaps behind, That one girl's face, fifty years ago. • Donovan Baldwin