The poet’s eyes, the lover’s song…
The poet’s eyes, the Lover’s song… A Poem by Coyote Poetry The days of good song, beautiful faces and when love was life. Our best days. The poet’s eyes, the lover’s song… A pretty… Continue reading
The poet’s eyes, the Lover’s song… A Poem by Coyote Poetry The days of good song, beautiful faces and when love was life. Our best days. The poet’s eyes, the lover’s song… A pretty… Continue reading
One….. Just photos in a book, just beautiful faces missed. Just kind voices heard in my dreams now. Beautiful hearts missed. Two….. Swirl me in your mind, my kind lover. Make me believe,… Continue reading
You don’t bring me flowers anymore A Poem by Coyote Poetry Love need reminders. You don’t bring me flowers anymore….. Please kiss me once, please kiss me twice. Make me believe love is still… Continue reading
Old soldier… A Story by Coyote Poetry Only Soldiers understand what another soldier had saw and felt. Strangers to war and violence cannot understand. When you are near death for too long. You appreciate… Continue reading
The heartstrings A Poem by Coyote Poetry Real love become beautiful music The heartstrings… She poured the sweet red wine into her Grandparent borrowed wine glasseswith soft and tender hands. Her eyes of river… Continue reading
You can’t go back to…. I wanted everything and I wanted nothing. You held me so tightly. Made me feel so loved and so needed. I was fleeing love when the flame was… Continue reading
The twisted dance of love. (written in 1988) A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words. A rewrite from December 1988. The twisted dance of love… (Written in 1988) I lay beside you in… Continue reading
The dance… Love is a wild dance.Make us hold on tightly deep into the midnight hour.Holding the embrace and honoring the sweet kiss.The breaking dawn begin to create separation.The once perfect dance because… Continue reading
A song of forever… A song of forever, she didn’t want to sing. She had shun love and she wanted endless night, loud music and her colorful cotton dresses. She was my hippy… Continue reading
The Jazzy Sunday.. A Poem by Coyote Poetry My best days was on Sunday in Austin, Texas. I would spend the evenings listening to the legends of Jazz. The Jazzy Sundays… The jazz is… Continue reading