The Acrostic Poem Thread

My words are empty.
Of course poetry -
reqiring resourcefulness and skill -
reveals, to all who see deeply,
our inner self.
What else ya got?

 

What becomes of

Christmas

When children do forget?

.....

 

My how the cold winter wind blows
over my face.
Realizing it's true nature,
realizing my try nature,
only now does it become the soft caress,
which comes from the smoothest ladies hands.

 

words entangled, the
couple
waits until another frees them from their duet

 

East 7street minds 8 lovers for dinner

 

Make love not war
Or maybe that should be
Rake dove, not four.
Ridiculous, you say?
Oh never mind:
We always were!