The silent sea…
The silent sea A Poem by Coyote PoetryThe ocean, memories and old dreams.” We can be humble by true beauty.Life can weaved us to places and situations.Blushing beauty can besiege our heart. Heaven and… Continue reading
The silent sea A Poem by Coyote PoetryThe ocean, memories and old dreams.” We can be humble by true beauty.Life can weaved us to places and situations.Blushing beauty can besiege our heart. Heaven and… Continue reading
Forgive me… Please forgive me for what I did to you. I’m sorry I torture you with lies and treatedyou as I did. I was young.Learning to love. Finding the many mistakes young… Continue reading
You are the love of my life A Poem by Coyote PoetryWe forget sometimes to show love to the people who truly loved us. You are the love of my life…. Once we… Continue reading
I want to see you again. A Poem by Coyote PoetryGood days become sweet dreams with time. I want to see you again…. The powerful Pacific ocean hide the love stories of fearless… Continue reading
Did we give enough? /Did we bleed?…. The loco Monterey Poet shouted to the sea. Did I give enough? /Did we bleed? The prettiest girl in Monterey, she laughed at his words. She… Continue reading
Swirl me in your mind…. I remember tracing your body with my fingers, I remember you whispering to me. Johnnie, Johnnie. Are we just whispering in the wind, just secret kisses shared in… Continue reading
Forget me not… I dreamed of you, I dreamed of us.I picked-up the phone.I was dreaming of your face, your voice, sweet like the German Summer wine.I dreamed of your long legs and… Continue reading
Can cry a tear… (Written when my heart was young.) My heart still can a tear. A tear of loneliness.A loneliness of losing you completely. I could of survive without your kiss. But… Continue reading
The untold story… I have wore a necklace of pig skin rope and white crystal for 35 years. My most prize thing I keep now, upon my neck. Once a celestial beauty, we… Continue reading
My eyes adored you… I learn we are made of places and pieces. We are a puzzle being built slowly by time and memories. Old men think too much and the what if?… Continue reading