Earlier this year, my wife and I visited Pompeii. We saw the ruins and the people who perished but were preserved in the moment of their deaths. That inspired this poem.
#2020
center he waited for this weekend like he did no other he will see his love; they will be together
Once upon a time in a village by t… There lived a lady whom we shall c… She likes to work all day Till the sky’s dark and gray She toils non-stop for she loves t…
The biting wind howls A drunk insolent hound The moon and stars Nowhere to be found The night dreary and cold
They met in the summer of their yo… In a faraway place, a school up in… He’s a man of the world, that’s th… But she’s sheltered, living as Go… There was magic when they saw each…
Monday morning I’ll tarry in bed Grab a book; read an hour at least No need to rush, I’ll wallow inst… My free time, a hundredfold increa… A yawn! Lazily, I’ll open my eyes
Up high the red hawk hovered O’er the lush virgin forest Keen piercing eyes surveilling Hunting live prey for her nest Under the green canopy
We live near the desert surrounded… Spring, summer evenings we drink o… With Louis on the sax Awesome way to relax But on frigid winter nights we hav…
The people we love The ones closest to our hearts Make life worth living They brighten the darkest days And make rainbows out of grays
Black birds all in flight Acrobatic explosion Darkening the sky Bad weather coming As the starlings warn the world
Ever after seems so far, far away But it’s what we aim for every day We pray our love forever will stay Even after all our hairs turn gray… If we wish our adventure to succee…
The past, I put away in a paper b… And threw it with the next-day’s t… I went to bed feeling good, But sleep didn’t come in a flash For I remembered the olden days
Overhead the mid-day sun’s heat sc… None to drink since morn temperatu… Less than a mile to go Soon endgame he’ll know Though ahead in the woods; hostile…
I doubt, but I hope not to sin I hesitate but cynical I’m not I wish my faith will strengthen And my unbelief be finally forgot!… © F Aparici
Hundreds of poems have I written Few have read them, fewer care But what bug have I been bitten? And why do I continue to share? I guess writing has me smitten
He read the poems he’s written yea… Wow! he grimaced for they were ter… Now he’s worried what he writes to… Ten years later he’ll find lamenta… Guess he’s become more discriminat…