Poems by Darren C Swartland

I used to think
that having it
altogether is key
but than I realized
happiness is what
opens doors for me

Special is an understatement,
it can't even tickle the fancy of
gold used to form thee prong
needed to hold a melodic song;
encapturing what is a gemstone
taken to where a proverb belongs.

Tears avalanche down hills of cheeks
while a voice is given hands to climb
the penultimate summit in it's peak.

"I don't wanna be with no one else" ,
she screams out as if it were for help, 
not out of danger like in a fire outbreak
where you trapped gasping for breathe
rather the type one inlove shall attempt
to pierce heart for a lover to understand;
in life there's times when nothing matters
other than being with your lover and friend

I can not stand to gaze at
what lies adjacent to me,
jumping out of it's skin
to pierce without a sorry.

Though blessing need not
to give a word of apology,
offense is taken solemnly.

Hurt shadowed circuitry
so how can I stand to see
brightness shine lovingly
if emotion esclipes poetry.

Radiance is given willingly
and all I have as an offering
are shards dipped in misery

I love you the way the sun loves the earth,
with warmth of every feeling it has birth,
growing flowers within you, you deserve,
planting a kiss gently upon your surfaces.
Though rhythm of our affection may dry
with devotion I'll never desert your cry
for I'll continually be the light of your life.

Like stationery I am going no where,
day in and day out I'll erase doubt
while sharpening what has lead
me to permanently mark her
as who my name shall be
shared with, I'll colour
in the days of my life
by penning down
my signature
ruling that
she shall
be my
wife.

Tell me tales of your experiences
like a novel painting imagination.
Take me back like a time traveller
to days sleeping thumb in mouth.

Let me feel scars from your youth,
imprints that helped shaped you.
Allow me to witness an upbringing
through moments of conversation.

Awaken a deeper understanding
within me so I feel a connection
to passion strangers cant fathom.

Speak to me about everything,
whatever intrigues your thoughts.
I'll listen closely so no need to rush.

How you feel about me
is a portrait reflected by thee
not a picture which paints
the kind of person I'm really.
Nothing you do can draw
or erase anything from me.
My composition needs not
to be brushed by validity.

Within the palms of his hands
were placed quite a plentora of
options he should select from;
riches galore stood dangling above,
to the left were a world's secrets,
on the right appeared endless years,
below him was a cure for all illnesses.
The central spot had belonged to love,
a gift the mortal man chose to grasp,
which he sowed an eternal feeling of;
that continues through his descendants.

You're not the kind of flower that will attract a deer wandering through but you'll draw in butterflies when it's time to burstfully bloom. Love need not stand out among the crowd, your mythology has significantly sung aloud, enchanting my heart as if it were endowed.