James Walter Orr

Rookie (02, June,1930 / Amarillo, Texas, U.S.A.)

James Walter Orr Poems

1. Right Love, Wrong Time 8/31/2009
2. Weasel Infestation 9/1/2009
3. The Seamstress 8/30/2009
4. Shadows Of Separation 8/30/2009
5. Can I Reach You? 8/31/2009
6. Love's Disciple 8/31/2009
7. Addiction 9/1/2009
8. Irresistible Time 9/1/2009
9. The Way Things Are 9/2/2009
10. Alien's Journey 9/1/2009
11. Judge Her Jolly Jelly Jugs 9/2/2009
12. An Autumn Night's Dream 10/18/2009
13. See You Soon 9/1/2009
14. I Saw A Child 9/1/2009
15. Lorelei 9/1/2009
16. A Letter 9/1/2009
17. Saving The Children 9/1/2009
18. Hunger 9/1/2009
19. Stormy Sledding 9/2/2009
20. Odd Fellow 9/2/2009
21. Along The Long Road 9/2/2009
22. In Search Of Aphrodite 9/2/2009
23. Across The Years 9/2/2009
24. Last Patrol 9/2/2009
25. The Toastmaster's Brawl 9/2/2009
26. Addiction's Balm 9/2/2009
27. Sweet Nectar 9/2/2009
28. Incomprehensible Comment 9/2/2009
29. Days Lost To Expediency 9/2/2009
30. Voracious Discontent 9/2/2009
31. It Never Seems Time When It's Time 9/2/2009
32. Subtle Query 9/2/2009
33. Cause And Effect 9/2/2009
34. The Seasoning Of The Season 9/2/2009
35. One Might Have Said 9/2/2009
36. Futility 9/2/2009
37. The Tree Of Life 9/2/2009
38. So Far Away 9/2/2009
39. Sorcerer Of War 9/2/2009
40. That's A Good Idea! 9/2/2009
Best Poem of James Walter Orr

Right Love, Wrong Time

You come to me because you say you need me.
I come because I cannot stay away.
You weep with me because our love was thwarted.
I weep with you because you cannot stay.

You say with me you can escape reality.
For me what's real is I die more each day.
Our thoughts are deep and life has so much meaning:
A life of pain that grows more so each day.

Sometimes we laugh because it seems so crazy.
Sometimes we cry because we know it's true.
The time was right, the place was wrong, but darling,
There'll never be another, only you.

Our dreams of love ...

Read the full of Right Love, Wrong Time

The Seamstress

Her gray head bows, and in the lamps dim glow,
with steady hand she sticks the end of thread
toward needles eye, but bushy, raveled end
declines to go. She makes another try
after she has moistened with her mouth,
And twisted down the raveling gossamers
that tend to wander from the mother-strand.
So now again, she takes with steady hand
the thread toward needles eye: the thread goes through.

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