Biography of Rachel Fogle
I am 27yrs old and have been writing poery since I was fourteen.
My grandfather was a poet and I just kind of fell into it myself.It is the most beautiful way to express how one feels and to maybe allow others to relate.
All of my poems are from life and written from my heart.
Please feel free to share with me, as I look to forware to sharing my words with you.
Rachel Fogle Poems
A Life Without Love
A Sunset without a sun is no sunset at all. A life without love is no life at all. A rainbow without colors is no rainbow at all. And heart without feelings is no human at all.
Keep hope in your heart, Keep it there till there's more. More of what many should have, but are just to afraid to hold. Hope is like a crystal, rare precious & bold.
A Brave Soldier
In his heart he holds courage, In his hands he holds our lives. A Brave Soldier he may be, but only at the the front lines. He is weaken by all the death,
Sometimes saying I'm sorry means more then I love you. Sometimes holding hands means more then making love with you.
A Mother's Sorrow
Heartbeat so strong, Beating fast holding on. Mothers tears falling down,
What causes the fear that people feel, When there scared and have to face the truth. What cause that fear that people feel, When there in love and have been hurt.
St. Patricks Day
Oh, I the greenish far side, The lovely mountains and hills, Is the true nature of any Irish Man, He and his fellow souls.
They live in cardboard boxes. They live on the lonely street. They sleep we're ever they can find, a special place to sleep. People think their dirty, people think there mean.
Do You Know How Much I Love You.....? ? ...
Every day that dawns I love you so much more. Every moment that comes brings me such joy. So many scars to heal from the past, Make our love that much stronger because our love will last.
So Close To My Heart.....
So close to my heart, Were do I Draw the line of what is yours and what is mine? So close to my heart,
He's been away to the war so long, We're over joyed that he's home. He's fought for our country and what stories will be told. He's waited out his sentence in an obligation spent.
Time after time I look at it all, And see so much unhappiness that I cannot recall, The last time I saw love in away that is was meant to be, Or the last time I felt love in all the ways that it should be.
Do you know what it's like to feel ugly all the time. To see your face, and not feel joy inside. I look in the mirror and I'm not happy with what I see.
The Green Mile
Standing by the window, dreaming of what never will be. Realizing all that's been lost, and knowing what is to be. You hear the cell doors open, you know it's not your turn. The Green Mile always beckons, calling, calling still.
Beauty unrestrained, captured in time,
They come from the depths of one's soul that is kepted only by a fine line.
Swaying with my pen, they drift so easily,
Words that create beauty and moments by the sea.
Proudly they bring boldness to a poem that once was raw with stain,
Change one word and in that line it will never be the same.