Each time I hear a baby's laughter I feel a tickle in my heart. I have to stop and listen better…
Writing poetry is passion, like breathing. If my writing touches but one life and gives it hope, then I have done my purpose in writing. I like poems that rhyme, have rhythm, and meaning, or poems that tell a story. At present, I am into the study of Asian forms of poetry such as the Naani (Indian Telugu form) and the Japanese poetry forms Haiku and Tanka. I like writing the Ninette, Pleiades, Octelle, Kyrielle, and Cinquian, Couplet, and the Septolet. I've loved reading poetry since I was a child and some kids thought I was weird but I enjoyed it. I tried to write poems as early as age 8, some were published by the nuns in our school paper. One thing I found out, I was happy writing poetry - that's the most important thing, I think. My favorite poets are Dorothy Parker, Ogden Nash, Walt Whitman, Christina Rossetti, Edgar Allan Poe, Rudyard Kipling, Roald Dahl, Langston Hughes and Lord Alfred Tennyson. My poems have been featured in inspirational sites, 'A Breath of Inspiration' including works such as 'He is In My Boat' 'Emilie'(Jewel Chest awardee - www.faithwriters.com) , 'The Greatest Gift', 'Apolutrosis', 'Reislience' (published in The Anguilian) and 'Robert'. I write personalized poetry, memorial poems, wedding poems, and poems for baby's christening. The poem 'Wolf', 'An Eerie Tale', 'A True Ghost Story', 'Death Comes to Any Age' 'The Pastor's Letter' 'For My Lost Brother' 'Sister Elly Ann' 'Merienda' are all true stories. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - (Note: THERE IS NO POET NAMED CYNTHIA MARIE BUHAIN here on Poemhunter, an impostor used my email address to create this bogus poet account. Please be informed I have only one account here.) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -)
Cynthia Buhain-baello şiirleri
Abandoned and decayed Springfield lunatic asylum It used to be where she laid It used to be her home.…
Today's young people want a quick fix In those drugs and drinks they can get And so in much trouble they get to mix With their lives destroyed, filled with regret.…
With all his expertise and knowledge Man cannot create a blade of grass. All rights reserved~~~Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~05.29.15…
A blessed land Yields Abundance from its soil, Its mountains hand Its people, Harvest for their toil.…
Behind the yellow flowers Amongst the grassy blades A little chick found cover From humans who invade.…
Echoes from the past may sometimes linger When the night is darkest and most silent, Fragments of bitter images, a reminder Hidden sorrows refrain a lament.…
A candle of blue I keep lighted for you In honor and gratitude.…
A child like clay is pliable Guidance molds him with each day With right values, he grows up able To live his life and not go astray.…
A child brings such a difference to a home- Wonder and joy, amazement at his being, Each moment reveals that Love's fruit had come His need draws out Care naturally flowing.…
Some people hold on to the past And cry those forever tears. Trying to retrieve what won't last, Unaware the finish line nears.…
A clenched fist cannot shake hands It cannot reach out and make peace. Hate is the main thing it understands Its pounding rage can never cease.…
Like any common man I grope And struggle to survive and be Bold with Dignity and Hope For life is hard and not so easy.…
To blame God for everything really, Man does in freedom on this Earth - Is a Convenient Escape, logically, For results that our human actions birth.…
Defeat shall never be Stored in my vocabulary For I persistently Will seek my victory.…
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