A Poem With A Refrain Mga Nobela at Kwento

The poem is titled 'SPEAK TO YOURSELF' and it reads thus. ******************************************************* How often do you converse with yourself? How often do you speak to yourself? How often do you listen to yourself when no one is speaking? How often do you minister to yourself? How often do you truly embrace yourself, your pain, your flaws, your truth, your fears... SPEAK TO YOURSELF Say to yourself.... "Though I am shattered and bereaved and I might wither with the wind but like seeds, I can sprout out of the ground, new and better. "

" Emily writhed and blushed again. Why couldn't she have seen that herself? Any goose could have seen it. "Sail onward, ships--white wings, sail on, Till past the horizon's purple bar You drift from sight.--In flush of dawn Sail on, and 'neath the evening star-- Trash--trash--and yet there's a picture in it-- Lap softly, purple waves. I dream, And dreams are sweet--I'll wake no more-- Ah, but you'll have to wake if you want to accomplish anything. Girl, you've used purple twice in the same poem.

A voice so soft. So calm. So new. Rises right above her. Lifting through the embers. A phoenix. I frowned at the poem and when I read it repeatedly to myself, I could help but ask myself, who was the “She” in this poem? Could this poem be about me?

Her infectious laugh made me join along in the laughter. Taking a step back, I gave her the space to do her thing. She closed her eyes, stretched her hands forward and began to mutter strange words. “Brom tuk en tro dem no,” I watched her with eagle eyes. “Thra dec su le kac du em!” A thick fog gathered before us and began to separate slowly, She kept repeating those words until it fully cleared and the familiar city came into view. Persefoni opened her eyes and smiled smugly at herself. “Come on, we need to get in quickly before it closes.”

The heading of the poem was ' Waiting for too long' it went like this- " How long should I wait For the suspense is becoming too long And the feeling is so wrong They say I should wait for the right time Until the good things come For the good things come to those who wait What exactly should I wait for? For I'm afraid it would be the longest wait of my life But I'm going to wait anyway I guess it is worth a wait I ' ll wait for my life to turn out for the best As I would be walking away from the worst Breaking free from my old nest

Only your shadow stretches, please don't disappear this feeling won't change, always. Forever Forever I only want to be with you, I want you to hold me and never let go. Fulfill the promise you gave me then, with our time, while I am in your arms. I wanted to stay and believe forever, with our drawn song. Spring may come once more, as the years will come by for a cycle. When time ticks, and hours longs. I wanted the moment to flow where I am with you. Just look at my eyes properly; look, please look. Only your shadow stretches, please don't disappear this feeling won't change, always.

I ran, O I ran, but they grey wolf ran faster O mother, I cry in the air at thy door. Cry shoo! now cry shoo! but his fangs were so cruel, Thy son (save his hatchet) thou’lt never see more. Walter De La Mare.

He handed a torn and smeared sheet of paper—and pen to Trisha. “Take ’em. Take ’em. I sca’cely ’av nid of ’em,” he kept on repeating when Trisha wanted to pay him. Trisha thanked him and headed back to the two guys who were becoming impatient. It took even longer for Harold to be done rewriting the poem on the filthy paper; hidE fRom everyone's gaze for If you don't shall you perish. be Careful for there shall be a maze, one that has Seen no wolf flourish.

Remember I'm right here in your heart~ Forever~ The words belted from me in as everywhere heard me. They all had their attention on me. By the end of the poem, I was struggling to stay upright. The strength in my legs was failing me and I wanted to collapse onto the muddied ground. The cold was seeping through underneath my skin and making a permanent home for itself within me. I would probably let it.

She read the poem on the topmost page: Blurry eyes, in a haze, Cry silently near the window, Go without speaking for days, Written words are all that remain. What did I do wrong? You call me a disgrace. Sleep with pretty women, perfect bodies Yet you dare show me that face? I sit by my lonesome, Never a hair out of place, Temptation walks by, You get in the way. Dismay, disarray, I seek comfort, The warmth of a stranger's arms,