******OUR POETRY ARCHIVE******: February 2016

Monday, February 1, 2016

GUEST EDITORIAL

WELCOME

OUR POETRY ARCHIVE

“Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.” ~Oscar Wilde

OUR POETRY ARCHIVE wishes all poets, poetess, and readers of this journal a wonderful month of love and inspiration. February is the month of love, and as Oscar Wilde so elegantly states; a heart and life without love are like flowers that have not received the beautiful nourishing rays and warmth of the sun. As an Administrator and member of the group, “Love Poetry,” I read many poems that are written from deep inside the very depths of the poet’s and poetess’s hearts. Some poets and poetess from “Love Poetry” are featured in this month’s, February 2016 issue of OUR POERTY ARCHIVE. I am very proud to see their work and beautiful words featured along with the other wonderful poets and poetess throughout the world.

Love is a splendorous expression that each of these poets and poetess have written within their poetry. Their words are like the rays of sunshine that give life to gardens, drawing out the radiant colors of blooming flowers. It is an honor to read such talent and pure heart from the members of “Love Poetry,” and also the words of poets and poetess featured on this website. There is freedom and life in their words. It brings to mind a favorite quote of mine, “You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching, Love like you’ll never be hurt, Sing like there’s nobody listening, And live like it’s heaven on earth.” ~William W. Purkey

Love, Love, Love, is my theme of life, and is also the theme my personal poetry. Blessings and love to you all, during this month of love.

This 11th issue of the 1st volume of “Our Poetry Archive”,- FEBRUARY 2016’ presents near about hundred poems of thirty-six poets around the world. As the viewership of this online monthly poetry journal is growing fast, let’s hope the journal will get constant support of poets and readers alike to remain as resourceful as ever.

Our Poetry Archive asks all to keep on sending their poetical creations only to its mail address: <ourpoetryarchive@gmail.com> with the confirmed permission to publish the poems along with the profile pictures; on and before the 25th of every month.

Thank you all.

Author and Poet Deborah Brooks Langford

Author Stacia Lynn Reynolds

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TONI LOVRIC

Toni Lovric

YOU SEDUCED ME

You seduced me

Played your cards

Set the scene

Kissing my neck

Whispering all the things

That lovers dream

Then you quietly

Slipped into the night

Leaving me breathless

Stripped of my vanity

Feeling like a fool

As l smell your trail

Left on my lips

Still longing

For that silent stolen kiss

You took with out a hesitation

Forgetting to leave behind

My used and broken heart

When you quietly slipped out

The secret door

OH ALICE DISCOVERS WONDERLAND!

Oh Alice

Little did you know

When you looked down

That curious

rabbit hole

There be warned

Don't be charmed

By Cheshire's mischievous grin

He will hood wink you

Into delicious

Sensual sin

The mirror has cracked

Your innocent mind

There the Mad Hatter

You will definitely find

He will try to

Seize you

Deceive you

And draw you in

Sly and sleek

Falling flat on the ground

Drive you crazy

Spinning you round

In the deep dark place

The mad Hatters tea party

Where you reside

Without a home without a bed

No where to run

No where to hide

Sending you

into a foggy haze

Spinning you

into a hypnotic daze

Cause Alice you've

found yourself

Falling flat on the floor

The loss of family love

they left you for dead

As they shut their door

The greedy wolves came running

Pounding on your door

You hid for cover

Laying sobbing on the floor

Oh Alice you fought

With wisdom and love

You were told to stand your ground

Not to feed their greed or lies

For the truth at all cost

So you heart will be sound

At your weakest

You found comfort

From the guests at

The Mad hatters tea party

Some smart and silly

Some weird and frilly

Most kind and hearty

Solace was found

Your adventurous

spirit released

As you were drawn deeper

Down the rabbit hole

Creative juices unleashed

So Alive you've discovered

You have a new thrill

To release your pain

With the creative quill

You have conquered

New creative ground

Uncovered other gems

People with similar sound

Sitting round the table

Drinking hot tea

Eating scones and cupcakes

Sharing stories happily

So just fill these cups

With tea made with love

Up high to the brim

Just Keep pouring

Add some spice with

and a little dash of gin

Filled with magic

Made with a hint of mystery

Stirred with enchantment

Served with cosmic fantasy

Sprinkle of cinnamon

For the Queen of hearts

Let the magic flow

Now the fun but starts

Drizzle of honey

For the Crazy cat

Squeeze of lemon

Sit on the mat

A cube of sugar

A carrot for the bunny

As he hops away

Enticing Alice being funny

To come out and play

Bring on the sunshine

Drink down the tea

With the Queen of hearts

Set out to sea

Forget your worries

Forget your pain

Dive into the world

Of the slightly insane

Welcome to the crazy

Wonderland

Where everyone

Is treated just the same

No different to you Alice

They all have

a story to tell

Some have even

Survived falling down

The wishing well

So welcome Alice

To the magical

Wonderland

A place to bleed

A place to escape

A place to feel safe

A place to dream

The cat and the rabbit

Sit down to tea

The Mad hatter

Is both a part

Of You and me

SEASONS COME AND GO

Seasons come

And seasons go

So too l must

Change and grow

You see me now

As l begin to change

Fear not of things

Unfamiliar or strange

For the time has come

For me to leave

As the winter frost

Dries out my crumpled leaf

As l let go of my bitter past

Hidden deep within me

Let's Winters cold

Release and set me free

ZACHAROULA GAITANAKI

THE POETS

Poets do not struggle
with bullets and knives,
they write verses, sing
and extend their hands.

They yield in inspiration
in the hours of loneliness,
they count with verses and strophes
fine weathers and storms.

Poets do not love
simply for love.
They write verses for naked bodies
before they touch them.

They are absorbed by love and swim
in love’s depths
and after, they write poems
for “the moment” that is lost…

POETRY’S MATERIALS

A well – dressed verse
with a red, full of freshness
and fragrance carnation on the lapel
pops out right
in the crown to dance.
Two strophes start a feast
on the white paper.
On top, an underlined title
assigns the intention of the poem.
Rhymes, words, “moments”
are valuable and invaluable
materials for a Poet
to make an emotion,
to pay off a debt
and to defeat a chimera.

WHEN…

There are moments,
that Poets owe to keep silence:
When birds sing,
rivers flow their water quietly,
sun shines and warms everywhere
and people live in harmony.
And there are times
that Poets own to cry out:
When the sky is getting dark
from smoke of rockets’ and fires’,
sea is darkening from oil
and sea-gulls are dying from pollution.
When sun isn’t warming all the people
and children are unhappy.
When ear spreads panic,
fear and death,
leave behind ruins,
cripples and shuttered devastated dreams.
Then, Poets owe to write.
Making pen a weapon,
a message and a hope.
Till they come again these moments
that Poets owe to keep silence.

ZACHAROULA GAITANAKI

STACIA REYNOLDS

WINDS OF CHANGE: SONNET 1

Winds of change renew the hues of seasons,

States of disposition framing the mind.

Why art thou bliss when ignoring hues tones?

Beauty of state why art thou so blind?

Does not the winds restore thou winsomeness?

Why thou come not what is appreciative?

Does not nature perceive its peacefulness?

Does thy mind distort when deflective?

Emerging in oneself is forgetting.

Night or day or spring or fall art visions.

Change of wind hues a glow art enthralling.

Hues’ inspirations give soul perceptions.

Winds of change, due seasons of thy mind’s eye,

Art thou journey to begin, and then fly.

THE WHISPERS OF THE RAIN

The rain mists, like the midst of a waterfall.

The birds quietly take a bath.

It is a quiet rain,

Soothing in a sense.

It is serene…

It quiets the soul.

It is a peaceful rain, after a dark night.

It refreshes the mind.

A mind that has been clouded.

A heart that has felt sorrow.

It washes over…

It makes clean.

The heart begins to sing;

As the bird’s melody erupts,

From within

The whispers of the rain.

TWENTY FOUR HOUR CYCLE OF TIME

The sun falls upon the horizon

Revealing the beauty before night

As the moon replaces its glory

Illuminating darkness in sight.

It is to be seen, as will be heard

No longer will she silence the night.

Nor deafen the strong voice inside

Or shall the still small voice hide.

Under the darkness that encamps around

As the leaves change from green to gold

His hand reaches out when it’s cold

Revealing noon’s brightness, or

A night that is bold.

All a twenty- four hour cycle of time

As the body becomes dust to dust

The promise of eternal life stays

Which has no time, in view from above.

In the day or the night, it remains

The illumination of the heart

The promise continues, displays

A glory too bright to part.

STACIA REYNOLDS

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