I See The Drifters Drifting Away

I see the drifters drifting away,

They're just like driftwood, seldom long stay

In any place, as the tides of time

Hold other options much more sublime.

They don't pan out, thus, soon they are gone,

Like the beauty of early morn dawn

Where next to drift? There's no one who knows,

But drifting onward, do you suppose

There is a love of drifting on, too;

The nature of drifters, to drift on through.

Drifting through life, one day at a time,

Would seem a waste, but love poet's rhyme

Has room for drifters that come and go,

As poetic drifting, a love that can grow.

Love's Protest

Love's protest,

Thousands of people gathered,

A sea of faces;

Grim reminders of horrific events,

Days filled with terror,

The past relived in the present.

Love's protest

Echoed and re-echoed

Around the world.

Terror has no place;

Freedom reigns,

Except in the lives of those

Who are driven by fear.

"Perfect love casts out fear."

Love is justified in protesting.

Love's protest,

Just and right.

For Curiosity's Sake

Inquire into the mystery of love

For curiosity's sake.

It's an inquiry you've never pursued;

But one with a promise you'll never be bored.

You may find it hot or cold, gentle or fiery,

As sweet as apple pie or sour as green apples.

Look at it in every possible way;

It may take a bit of reflection.

You'll find your inquiry is not a mistake,

But many directions, an inquiry can take.

Love is a mysterious phenomenon,

Ever waiting to be revealed.

However you choose to delve into it,

You'll unearth something concealed.

You'll have to determine which way to go.

Some pathways may lead you astray,

But if you stay true to your goal,

You'll be blessed by the end of the day.

Inquiry into the mystery of love

For curiosity's sake.

Love's Passion

Love's passion continually and consistently

Energizes and re-energizes the human soul;

Its gentleness, compassion never ceasing.

Love's passion, a trigger for the human mind,

A contemplative, artistic genius at work.

Its awe inspiring wisdom always irrefutable,

Leading to more inspiration and creativity,

Amazing and confounding humankind;

It never fails to be both human and divine.

Love's passion has its own unique pathway,

A predestined pathway grounded in grace.

Its humble task to awaken human emotions

Surpassing immediate human awareness;

Its soulful expression ever fresh and new,

While beautifying the world, in the eye of the beholder.

  

The Trembling Brook

The trembling brook,

Its waters shivering

Like butterflies quivering.

The trembling brook,

With waterfall stuttering,

Its words ever muttering.

The trembling brook,

A pace unrelenting,

As if its consenting.

The trembling brook,

Its shadows e'er dancing

Like young fillies prancing.

The trembling brook,

What is it after

Trickling with laughter?

The trembling brook,

It never gets frantic

With love its main antic.

The trembling brook,

The myst'ry of beauty

E'er doing its duty.

  

Splinters of Light

Splinters of light piercing early dawn,

The last vestiges of night soon gone.

Love e'er awakens, just as it should,

Rays of pure sunshine, like morning's hood

Draping the cold earth still wrapped in ice,

Melting its teardrops, just to entice

Life to awaken when it is time,

To spring forth like lambs in pantomime.

Splinters of light piercing ev'ry nook,

Murmurs of trickling water, a brook

Suddenly bursting forth in the sun.

Where do they hide when fresh waters run?

Love's perfect plan unveiled when it will.

Splinters of light that are never still,

Part of love's plan is to lead the way,

Light's splinters piercing, new ev'ry day.

Love is Like the Sky

Love is like the sky,

No one ever asks it why

It's like a changeling,

Ever changing, re-arranging;

The sky has passion, so it seems,

Perhaps a figment of day dreams.

Blue sky, disappearing clouds,

Suddenly, a mask that shrouds

Its antics and its passion, too.

There is naught that man can do;

Just like love, the sky turns dark,

Passion, fury, lightning spark.

N'er for long, as it won't last.

Much like love, no die is cast.

There is no mold, no pattern clear,

As with love, can cast out fear.

Rain drops, rainbows, man's demise

Locked into sky's passion wise.

The early dawn, the setting sun,

Like a rapture, passion's fun.

The sky is blue; the sky is gray,

Unpredictable each day.

Skies will come and they will go,

Just like love, a myst'ry show.

Love is Like the Sands of Time

Love is like the sands of time

E'er in motion, so sublime.

It comes and goes, blows away;

The sifting sand, child-like play.

Rearranging, changing, too;

That's what love will ever do.

Build it's world and let it fall,

Pick it up, rebuild it all.

Bare feet walking in the sand,

Know it's at a wave's command.

Now it's here and then it's gone,

With the tides of early dawn.

Hot or cold, it's passion deep

There are times it seems asleep.

Wake up, love. There is no mold

That its dunes will ever hold.

Like a castle on the beach,

Only there till waters reach;

Carried out to sea once more.

Who is there that's keeping score?

Sifting sand will find its nook

In some corner or a brook.

Love is like the sands of time

Captured in forever rhyme.

The Sands of Time

The sands of time in the hour glass,
Sift slowly, but steadily downward,
Locked into the law of gravity,
Its relentless passion never ceasing,
Only to be over turned again,
As the minutes and hours still pass.

The sands of time on the empty beach
Sway back and forth to the whims of waves,
Their antics ever controlled by tides.
They too, are simply marking their time
Only to be over turned again,
As the minutes and hours still pass.

Sets of footprints on the sandy beach
Momentarily showing the truth
That life too moves on, e'er touched by time
Measured by destiny's hour glass,
Only to be over turned again,
As the minutes and hours still pass.

Love Poetry 2015

W. Diane Van Zwol R.N. 

B.A. Honors (Religious Studies) 

M.A. (Philosophy)

Certified Counselor

Copyright 2015 

All Rights Reserved