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Best Poems From
CHARLES M. MOORE
(1953 june)
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213.
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What I know
If I could make tomorrow
the day your dreams come true
I'd wrap them with my heartstrings
and give it all to you
If I could turn a rainbow
into somthing you could wear
I'd take this band of colour
and place it in your hair
If I could take a rosebud
that holds the morning glow
it's pearly drops and petals
I'd give you as a robe
But all of this is nothing
compared to what I know
and to understand my meaning
you will have to read below
For if I took the sunshine
and placed it by my side
its radiance wouldn't penetrate
the love for you I hide.
Charles M. Moore
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214.
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What is the love of a woman
What is the love of a woman
that I simply don't understand
for when I speak she captures my breath
and her heart flutters deeply inside her chest
like a small bird that trembles inside the nest
What is the love of a woman
What is the love of a woman
that I simply cannot work out
for when I kiss her my senses she grasps
and her body feels faint for the want of a gasp
like a butterfly wishing the summer would last
what is the love of a woman
What is the love of a woman
that I simply wont be without
for when I caress her she captures my mind
with a passion and fire of a volcanic kind
like a bee in a rapture of honey he finds
what is the love of a woman.
Charles M. Moore
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215.
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What's going on
What's going on, the word on the street
your womans left you, just too much heat
you beat her up, she grabbed your child
and you were crazy, running round wild
you hit the bottle, you hit the vein
smashing up bars, going insane
what's goin on.
Charles M. Moore
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216.
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When I had the dream.
When I had the dream
you were standing beside me
on top of a mountain
we looked down through the glen
some horses were running
free, free through the heather
well that's how it seemed
when I had the dream
We linked arm and arm
it was ever so gentle
you cosied up to me
and gazed at the scene
I kissed your head
as we walked down the pathway
and crossed o'er the stream
when I had the dream
The eagles were flying
and danced in the sunlight
high o'er the loch
you could here their faint scream
we chatted and laughed
and you picked some flowers
well that's how it seemed
when I had the dream.
Charles M. Moore
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