Biography of Hershe Moore
I'm a 32 year old mother of five born and raised here in Houston, Texas. Poetry is my first love. There's no better form of exppression than the use of words to me. A myriad of ways to express love, concern, hardship and emotion. Countless authors and musicians have inspire me and motivate my pen to move. I pray to be an inspiration to others as well.
Hershe Moore Poems
Stop And Smell The Roses
Stop and smell the roses, taste the nectar of sweet. Peel back the petals, tickle your feet!
The Woman Below
The curtains pull in her scent as it lures me from my bed, perched in my windowsill curiosity embraces me on the edge... What's her name?
Love is... That gentle breeze in the air The essence of you stroking my hair Similar to the texture of a rose
I wanna go to the place where lovers go... Where butterflies rest easy on summer peaches, beyond existence your hand reaches... you touched me,
His kisses pollinate my breast... against his chest, heaving breathing in his essence His presence is demanded by my lips,
Traveling the curves in my waist, I paved the road he takes with honey, letting his fingers trace their way upon two ripe melons, He's in place...
Where Do The Children Play
Where do the children play? Amongst the bottle tops and amidst the unseen Where the concrete has no mercy, and the crevices swallow them in.
Don'T Want No Mo'
No thankyou, No taste for lies, deceit, trickery or despise. I'm full of backstabbers, waving their daggers,
Kisses Of You
Greet me with the imprint of passion, Meet me on the desolate shores of ecstasy reformed... Anew!
In passing, perfection! Tall in stature and easy on the eyes, Neatly groomed,
You won't find me in the shadows, I'm searching for the street lights! Bright! Fast cars, money...
Yesterday I took a long walk with me, Had a talk and come to find out we were so unhappy, Asked eachother'Why? ' Looked one another in the eye,
Goodbye Jones, Sweet, lil' Jones.... But do you gotta take with you that feeling in my bones?
The Lord's Company
I ain't afraid to face what awaits me out there, No, not the fingerpointing nor the taunting or the stares, I tilt my head and bow and curtsy to the outside, Since it couldn't steal my joy,
Can you hear me?
I'm whispering in your ear,
How can I think of love when you're not here?
everyday you display and portray what it is to me...
It's like singing out of key yet you listen carefully
The melody is yours,
you gave it to me
It was written beautifully,