The poetic form of this poem is a pantoum. It repeats the first and last line of the first stanza through out the poem. The last verse is 4 lines where the first and third line meet for the last time.
Lawrence Spiro – revised 12.1.2024
Heaven is with you my love come and play.
I am loved so much but I need you.
Now is our time it’s still early today.
I miss your smile my love come home to stay.
My smiles are freshclean and my heart is new.
Heaven is with you my love come and play.
I know you can do it and find a way
to see me here in lifelight’s golden hue.
Now is our time it’s still early today.
We can be together like Yesterday.
Hours of daylight are a precious few.
Heaven is with you my love come and play.
Please rush home to me my love don’t delay.
We are a first love and one that is true.
Now is our time it’s still early today.
You’re always my hero hug me I pray.
Oh turn my tears to joy away from blue.
Heaven is with you my love come and play.
Now is our time it’s still early today.
FLIGHT – by Ethan Bell
I dream of wings that lift me high to sail above the world and ski the clouds below
So soft and wide as I take off on a joyful ride
To feel the rush the soaring free a plane will carry much of me
How I long to touch the sky and let my spirit learn to fly
Kiss The Lightning – by Willow DuBrovin
Drops formulate upon my lips, swept away by this gentle quake
that originates from within. I shiver, the storms awake
yet fear cripples my ability to walk
as the rain continues to stalk
alongside my temple and the bare of my cold skin,
moving with tendency of a heaveness snake.
I wonder, as I stand, flesh behold, what else shall I allow it to take?
And Nephele seems to part for Zeus, as if she never belonged in the sky.
My warmth? My skin? My heart? I stand, petrified.
Dipped in ice, I search for a part, reaching out too soon.
The clouds seem to stretch, searching for me too.
But only the fury of its torrent reaches back just enough
for me to caress its touch, beholding its glory shrouded in vice
as a vining current shrouds my skin.
What a powerful slice?
While rage ripples across the clouds, I am too distracted to hear
so thoroughly, as the roars of thunder blind my ears, erupt my eyes,
and down came the hell I so pleasantly searched for in the midst
of this dying guise.
As the heavens weep their wrath, I stand, undone,
a simple silhouette beneath the waning lighting.
All I fought for in the storm’s unyielding glare
was not salvation, but a drop of warmth.
A shield from within, its whispered lies I had to bare.
But respond did it so, with obnoxious dread,
and its howling cries.
So let these skies shatter, let the torrents call the clouds,
for I am no stranger to the weight of it all, as warmth did I find.
And as the rain drowns, I remain standing, pleased.
Though soaked to the bone, my soul wet with ice,
I thank Zeus, kiss the lightning, and sleep into the night.
