Isadora Quagmire

Friendship is a precious art,
A steady beat within the heart.
It's not just presence, near or far,
But knowing who you truly are.
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To love is not for praise or earthly fame,
It asks no monument, no song, no verse,
But pours itself, a sacrificial flame,
A silent gift, to heal a world's deep curse.
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There are angels in this mortal veil.
Gems glittering in this world's grey shale.
Their lights shine out in this dark land,
Like a lighthouse's sparkle upon the sands.
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A tiny spark in darkness, faint and frail,
Can shift the future's unrelenting tide.
Though shadows lengthen, and dark forces wail,
A single deed can turn where fates preside.
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Rest your head and close your eyes,
The moon is climbing the quiet skies.
You have done your part today,
And now it's time to drift away.
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It really is so late, but I cannot sleep at all,
Sometimes because I just cannot—other times I'm on call,
Poems and poets my name call:
‘Isadora! Isadora—come—you won't again to sleep fall! '
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The long sore day now gently fades,
The cool river calls, as evening shades.
With family, I splash and play,
Washing the world's fatigue away.
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Brilliant poets shape the world with light,
Threads of thought in verse, full of might,
Each line a flower bloom bright.
Holding the poets' hearts.
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Upon a tender night fair,
Beneath the moon's soft and silver glare,
I made a promise to which Ill hold true,
To guard and cherish you.
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Fear no living man,
but trust in God, don't dismay.
Take courage, know he can,
guide you in life's frightful fray.
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Should shadows fall upon your way,
Or sorrow cloud your light and day,
My hand is grasping, forever near,
To expel every doubt and fear.
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Wherever you wander, whatever you face,
The Lord who has called you still knows your place.
No land too distant, no path too unknown—
His providence follows; you're never alone.
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Lo, the poppies sway,
As we remember on this day,
The men who fell for us,
Who gave their lives for us,
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The sky opened up, a gentle sigh,
And oh, the rain began to fly!
A hush descends, a world renewed,
My heart with gratitude imbued.
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Last night my little sister asked me if dreams came true,
it took me some time to think of what I perceived.
But when I decided what indeed I knew,
I gave her the answer which I truly believe.
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Be still, my soul! the Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In ev'ry change he faithful will remain.
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In dreams of moonlit serenity, she appears,
Graceful and beautiful, a vision so dear,
With dark hair cascading like midnight's whisper,
Her presence, a symphony, her love so clear.
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A hug, so simple, yet it speaks so clear,
It wraps us close, a comfort soft and true.
The warmth it brings can chase away all fear,
A silent bond, a love that breaks right through.
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A man once dreamt beside the ocean's foam,
He walked the sands with God, far from his earthly home.
Across the heavens, moments of his life streamed,
A vibrant, moving vision—vividly dreamed.
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My dearest brother, whose mind, a noble hall,
Is richly furnished with wisdom's ancient lore,
In classic tongues you rise above them all,
A courtly grace I've never seen in anyone before.
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