The Poetic Voyage - Poetry Of Life's Journey

A burning heart, A ranging fire, Confused and wrapped, Like a tangled wire. A lonely heart, A lost desire, Hurt and Bruised, But a pretty attire. A pouring rain, The gushing winds, In the tender veins, Though the blood flows in. A deadly drought, The unbearable heat, In an innocent soul, Who still spreads peace. The broken wings, Flying into spring, With a hidden voice, And can't fit in. In an unkind world, With the pennies earned, Crushed in the spirit, But conquered the world. Feeling bad, Not at least glad, But in the wilderness speaks, A ray of Hope, Maybe some where, There's a helping hand, To hold on and withstand. -Debra R. N. Ludwick-

Golden rays, piercing through the trees, Gifted with shades of red, brown and green, They played and formed, natural swings, Filling the world, with air to breathe, When it was time, to the Earth they gifted, precious wings. Wings of soil, for the rest of the trees, A fertile land, for us human beings, A pleasant formula, to the air we breathe, Until one day, I heard them scream, I saw their souls, was black, not green. They suffered the flames, that was extreme, Unbearable pain, from an axe, that's unclean, From each of us, they asked for help, they screamed, Instead we sat back, and enjoyed the scene, They bid farewell, but not in peace. For decades and decades, the same repeats, We killed the air, with smoke that's unclean, We poisoned them, we poisoned the trees, They bid farewell, with a troubled soul, not free, Yet we enjoyed, and watched the scene. Until one morning, the air was filled, With mist and dust, and air unc...

Dear Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, From miles apart and across the seas, Today I write, to you and your family, It's been a while, after the happy ending, How's your wife, and your well-being? Recalling the time, When I was not even fourteen, Ms. Jane (Jane Austen) introduced you to me, Your character was fine, why couldn't she (Elizabeth) see? Maybe she saw, but took some time to believe. She hurt you, didn't she Dear Mr. Darcy? With the letter she wrote back, for the one she received, I swear I was mad, I asked her to show some mercy, But oh, her prejudice, it's annoying, believe me, Of course, you know your wife, better than me. When you showed up to rescue, poor little Lydi (Lydia), I was worried, excited and confused unknowingly, Not of anything, but my thoughts, Dear Mr. Darcy, You proved everyone wrong, except for me, When you accepted your pride, so humbly. Best of all, Dear Mr. Darcy, I'm here to say one sp...