Isadora Quagmire Poems

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.
...

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.
...

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.
...

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.
...

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.
...

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! '
...

He can see your tears,
He can hear your anguished moans,
He knows your deepest fears,
He can feel your shaking bones.
...

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.
...

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.
...

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.
...