• A Poem about Nothing but Love
    Written by: Tyner Twine
    Would someone care to explain,
    Why people write poems in a way
    That adorns with jewels something so plain
    That expresses emotions beyond insane
    I lift my quill and dwelt on the thought,
    And realized the reflections i made and forgot...

    There I lift my pen...
    THEN PAUSED and reflected:

    How should I begin to write,
    About lads and gals with love at first sight?
    Though I have tried as hard as I might,
    To close my eyes from love's delight,
    He won me over without a fight,
    Now all I see is love's pure light.

    I wondered... Now I shall write:

    Have I become some kind of fool,
    Who let Love ruin my poems and rules?
    Who let Nostalgia come and play,
    With distant Beloved's memories on a working day?

    Have I been foolish every night,
    To think his arms are holding me tight,
    To wish that he will come home to stay,
    That he'll make love to me every night and day

    I think these thoughts and was appalled,
    How I felt too warm and galled
    In thinking that these thoughts might stay
    and be my ruin at the end of the day

    Love...is a cruel thing for fools If I might say,
    Though it is delightful it has a price to pay.
    Fool, fool, fool! With love as her tool.... I am.
    Beguiled and ruined.


    Oh ~ why can't they just write about trees?
    Or how honey flows and comes from bees?
    Why can't they just write about Sky?
    See the clouds and mist and the birds that fly?

    Why can't they just write about life?
    How calves are born and how they die?
    How flowers bloom with the light of the moon,
    How the sun rose up and set to soon?

    Oh, a foolish poet's heart of clay,
    Be molded with warmth of fate's faint sway!
    For life has changed drastically above,
    When the fool that I am
    Writes a poem about nothing but love.