Gina

4 Comments

Poem Commentary

I have never taken a formal class on writing poetry. I could use any pointers that anyone would like to give. This poem was inspired by a close personal friend.
E./Topper
June 7,2009

Gina

Unfaltering, faithful, honest, obedient, perceptive, Optimistic, and proud
These are the gifts received in her unconditional Love
Now I am bound to this skipping of my heart,
The irregular, beautiful beating rhythm playing Throughout my veins
My blood flows pure
My pulse strengthens when she is near
For my love for her is strong and sincere
Forever with my lady is my destiny 
A home in her heart I found to be
Her passion is her gift 
It contains truth that fill my spirits on high
Her devotion saves my life
Always there,
With every trouble,
She comes to my rescue
Steadfast and encouraging
With her,
I make it through
I think, I realize, 
Life without her,
Would be;
Less than
BY: Topper
June Twenty-eighth
Two Thousand-Eight

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GURL commented on Gina

06-07-2009

I TRULY LIKE THOS POEM IT MAKES ME THINK OF MY MOM...AND THE MOTHER I WANT TO BE TO MY SON...GREAT READ POET..GURL

topper

06/07/2009

The person this was written about would trully appreciate you said that...thank you. She is a great person and the love of my life.

robear commented on Gina

06-07-2009

Vert deep emotion and pain. I like the way the love is refered to as rescue and hope. Encouraging to believe that another could make such a big difference in ones life and leave them incomplete or unfullfilled without

Griff commented on Gina

06-07-2009

I liked it, some very good lines "my pulse strengthens when she is near" , "her devotion saves my life".. powerful. Personally I prefer poetry that rhymes, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate and see the talent.. I think you should continue to write and share your work :)

DragonAngel commented on Gina

06-07-2009

this is a good one not much rhyming but none the less a keeper great job i have to give this one a 9 for the overall wordingand grace used in this work

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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