Biography of Bill Cantrell
I am not a poet and don't claim to be one.
Bill Cantrell Poems
The Treasure Of A Letter
Words carefully written, Will they stand the test of time? The secret is emotion, Not in the way words rhyme.
Emotions must be gathered and clothed with words that fit. Then joining hands together, on paper they now sit.
We Are The Maker Of Dreams
From the other side of the pen, A poet enters a dream Upon the matrix of our desires, We are collecting bones,
What is it that I seek in poetry? It is not falling in love, For it already holds my heart captive, There is no other
The Vioce Of Flowers
Have you heard the voice of flowers? Oh, they speak in many ways Some will whisper, some will shout, Listen what they say
The Ultimate Poetess
The ocean, The ultimate poetess Ever writing, ever reading Reaching to the shores to collect out footprints,
Tides Of Love
You need not burn old bridges to keep me by your side. The sun anoints your smile and the moon dwells in your eyes
In Between The Lines
There is a place in poetry, Where lovers talk incognito. Relationships are alive and well, In this place where silence is interpreted,
Afraid Of The Dark
Bedtime should be a time for sweet dreams A story a prayer and a kiss goodnight Yet, things in the dark aren't what they seen But when off goes the lights, the bedbugs will bite
A Poets Prayer
Cleanse my mind that I may not pollute this page Should I betray the dignity of this holy place, Strike my heart! Let me find my place,
In the sweat shops of the void; Status quo poetry! Mechanically engineered by snobbish math Emotions have all graduated from the finest schools,
Onions In Their Pockets
Place me on a shooting star That I may leave in style Dress me in my finest suit And cry for me a while
Flip Side Of The Coin
The past can be an easy chair,
It holds you in its loving arms
It dims the night and hides the day,
Be careful of its charm!