Love, a silent thread, unseen yet true, ties heart to heart, though words may falter there. Unsaid, yet bright as morning’s early dew, with looks that linger, gentle as the air.
By Gideon Kiprutoabout a year ago in Poets
Silver muse, you grace the night, guiding dreams with gentle light. Soft above, serene and free, moon, you watch so faithfully.
The dawn stretches, yawning over quiet streets. Shadows fade as the world awakens, each step a rhythm matching the heartbeat of morning. The air is crisp, a soft promise held in every breath.
There once was a cat, sly and flat, who wore a bright orange hat. With a meow and a grin, he would twirl right in, spinning circles like a mad acrobat!
Breathe in deep, let worries cease, count to ten, embrace release. Find the quiet, hold it near, peaceful heart, away from fear.
The echoes linger, shadows fall, memories drape on every wall. Love's ghost whispers soft and slow, in an empty room that won’t let go.
When deals look bright, eyes must be keen, research first and then dive in. Trust the reviews, not shiny sights, value hides in humble lights.
A sailor lost on stormy seas, yearned for shores he’d never see. A compass broken, heart astray, he sailed alone into the gray.
Blank space, brush in hand, colors blend, ideas expand. A story told in every hue, art unfolds, pure and true.
Holding on to light, Opens doors unseen, Promises kept bright, Endings fresh and clean.
For sunlight, for soft rain, for hands held tightly and voices close. For laughter, small kindnesses, the way silence comforts. For all that goes unnoticed— the quiet, steady gift of being here.
Without the weight of rhyme, words run wild, barefoot through open fields, no fences, no lines. Meaning takes the shape of air, of light— each breath its own poem, each thought a rhythm falling where it may.
