Short poem on poetry
All this, everything that moves in this moving world,What is it in the face of YOU?Just erasable writing on a board,Just tears fallen in a pool.
It's a kiss I missed, a kiss I should have caught.But I let it slip, and I let the moment pass.And now all I've got is a memory of a path not takenAnd my mind, to imagine all it could have led to.
I must thank Night for the truths she whispers when she comesI must thank Day for showing me the error in all those thoughtsBut sometimes Night is right,And Day has only wrong to sayFor Night, when alone, is dreams, is freedom, unshackled thought,While Day is surrounded, crowded by other minds--ideas lashing in the air.
(First voice)Tonight I take the leapI speak the words that creepI touch the withered handAnd say: "have me again, old friend"(Second voice)If you go away as I know you mustThere'll be nothing left in the world but dustand the hallowed wind to play silence's tune On leaves of branches, beneath a dead moonShould you choose…
Short poem on the pain of loss
Short note on pleonasm, and easy exercise to check understanding.