FROM THE POET

This is a series of poems written by John Svododa over a number of years. There are times of peak-where numerous poems were written & there are also times of lows where there are long periods between each poem. As the author is trying to reach a goal of 1001 (and then retire!!) it was never envisaged that this would be done over a short period of time. Poems can be humorous, ridiculing someone or something, show a meaning of hurt or love or even project feelings that not necessarily be directed to the same person/thing, can be a reflection of life or to be life. Most poems are trying to send a message to the reader be it not understandable or nonsense.

The idea of this poet is not to have any ill feelings against anyone but to be read by young whom can learn about life – and by the elderly look back at what could have been. Some are very personal- but who cares when you are currently living in a life that has total enjoyment. Suggestion is not to criticize but to take in the enjoyment of creative poetry make it meaningful and thus may be you can be an author.

SO NOW:

Please Read On!

Tuesday, 1 November 1983

Poem Number 15 - The Time Of Forgiving And Forgetting - 1/11/1983

I have a song in my heart,
That I would like to share with you,
It makes me feel like,
I’ve got tiny new hairs, growing on top of my head.

As I give my heart.
To my dear, sweet love,
It will always be you,
And knowing that your heart beats and never stops,
As I will always take care of and be around you.
This will be the beauty of our love.

The time of forgiving and forgetting is right now!
Remembering the good fortunes,
And the time we’ve already had together.
May it glow in the fields of green pastures,
Cause when we’re together,
Our feelings are so strong,
And we’ll always both know that.

Like a raindrop, falling on a freshly painted window sill,
And another raindrop, joining up with the first one,
Life is not like a raindrop,
But the strength of it is like the two raindrops, linking together.

Like an author who will not write,
Until he or she, thinks out the words, so clearly,
Like a conductor of an orchestra,
Who doesn’t start playing the music, until all are tuned.

Like a person whom admits,
That he or she is wrong.
Nothing else is better in the world,

Than two lovers, “on their own”!

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