Monday, February 1, 2016


 “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: <> 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


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

Angel Bell (c) 2015


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
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
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

Angel Bell (c) 2015


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

Angel Bell (c) 2016




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…


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.


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.




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 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.

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.