Your Poems

By Rio

The author, known as Rio, is a brilliant writer and poet. This will be revealed to you while escaping into his poetry, as he paints vivid pictures on canvas, which will draw you in. You'll find romantic shades and delicate hues evolve into graphic, colorful and detailed painting; offering you, the reader, a unique and personal masterpiece. I believe each person will feel many of his poems were written to and especially for them. So, find a quiet place, a peaceful space and escape into "Your Poems" by Rio.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716738166

Book preview

Your

POEMS

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RIO

Copyright © 2020 Rio.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored,

or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical,

or electronic—without written permission of the author, except in the

case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized

reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-1-7167-3817-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7167-3818-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7167-3816-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020913308

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained

in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 08/06/2020

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The ancient philosopher Pythagoras told his students they could heal their whole body and bring it back into balance simply by reading a beautiful piece of poetry. He also taught that the human voice has a tremendous capacity to be yet another instrument of healing and, as such, simply reading lovely words with a pleasing meter and slow and steady cadence could heal both body and soul.

Anonymous

Acknowledgements

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I cannot begin to thank all of the people who have inspired me over the years. That would be an impossible task. However, there were some individuals that not only inspired me and encouraged me along the way, but also meant the world to me. They deserve special attention for believing in me; for their kind hearts, their kind words, for their touch and for their grace, upon my soul.

Maike: Who was my heart and soul for over twenty years. Now she lives in Heaven with her friends.

Essie: Who believed in me utterly and always brought me smiles.

Susan: Who has been the dearest friend over the past several years.

Young: Who gave me confidence and stability when I decided to publish.

Nancy: Who sat with me hour after hour, improving, polishing and refining Your Poems. There are no words to measure her invaluable contribution in making this book much better than it would have been otherwise. Further, who brought out the Rio in me so I could write once again.

And for all of the people who have touched my life over the years; they shall always have my unyielding respect and undying love.

Rio

Foreword

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By

Nancy Burch

The author, known as Rio, is a brilliant writer and poet. This will be revealed to you while escaping into his poetry, as he paints vivid pictures on canvas, which will draw you in. You’ll find romantic shades and delicate hues evolve into graphic, colorful and detailed paintings; offering you, the reader, a unique and personal masterpiece.

You will discover that the style, the creative poetic verbiage and the techniques used by Rio offer his readers a personal insight into his love of Mother Nature, humanity and the quest to realize our place in the circle of life and the universe.

Rio has visited many places all over the world, though only found his gift and love for writing poetry after the age of fifty. After his final poem When I Grow Old, he hadn’t written in many years, until recently, when he found the touch and grace, and once again the creative magic began to flow.

I believe each person will feel many of his poems were written to and especially for them. So, find a quiet place, a peaceful space and escape into Your Poems by Rio.

THE POET

Prologue

Be he man or not with quill in hand,

a captured soul, the times of sand,

as fleeting moments never stand,

he takes thy heart, you understand.

With caramel stains of nicotine,

the parchment bore the yellow seam,

and absinthe deep within his glass,

he longs for days forever past.

Verse 1

When is the poet not lonely

and when is the poet not sad?

When is the poet not dreaming

of a girl that he once had?

What has the poet not seen

and what has the poet not done?

What has the poet not written of

beneath the setting sun?

Where has the poet not lived

and where has the poet not roamed?

Where has the poet not put his hat?

—yet the pen his only home.

Whom has the poet not loved

and whom has the poet not touched?

Who is this artist that paints in words

and conjures pen from brush?

Why has the poet not told you

and why has the poet not said,

"the beauty and wonder you vision,

‘tis you that stand instead"?

Verse 2

Oh, ye sweet poets now and future past,

some sadly bitter ones who faded in the grass,

yet each within their time and all that bid adieu

had words of grace and thunder that whispered, I love you.

And so,

in the deep dark azure I was looking up to see—

Behold, your shooting star ’twas shining down at me.

So if I die tomorrow, I shall have but one regret:

I did not gaze upon thee, for you I never met.

Ratiocination

For when the sunset in my eyes fades forever

and sweet eternity is but the view,

‘tis I who shall dream of the dreams

that are bathed in sunlight and you.

BE

Be my lover, be my friend,

Be my bliss as we pretend.

Be my moon, the sun and stars,

Be my moment, call it ours.

Be my ocean, be my sea,

Be my inner sanctity.

Be my soul, its one desire.

Be my blaze, its passion’s fire.

Be my joy, be my sad,

Be my good and be my bad.

Be my girl, I’ll be your man.

Be my lady, hand in hand.

Be my night and be my sleep,

Be my dream where lovers meet.

Be my place of such sweet rest.

Be my tender woman’s nest.

I’ll be your cool, I’ll be your warm.

I’ll be your sunset or your storm.

I’ll be your king, I’ll be your slave.

I’ll be your lust if you so crave.

I’ll be your body shapely fit.

I’ll be the one to never quit.

I’ll be the breeze upon your face.

I’ll be the sweet you long to taste.

I’ll be the still—when you so need.

I’ll be the light, when you so read.

I’ll be your smile and your glance.

I’ll be the beauty while you dance.

I’ll be your secret never told.

I’ll be the years as you grow old.

I’ll be your heart forevermore.

I’ll be your grace, if you implore.

I’ll be your waves upon the shore.

I’ll be your lion and its roar.

I’ll be your peace and harmony.

I’ll be your pal to comfort thee.

I’ll be your pain, stock and store.

I’ll be the wonder that you bore.

I’ll be on call for you to see.

I’ll be your BE—so endlessly.

ANGEL TIME

Dedicated To Geoffrey

Have you forgotten your angel time

blessed with grace and spinning life’s rhyme?

To search and find the shape of it all;

to listen and hear as whispers do call.

Have you forgotten the hymn from within,

far greater than petty and having no sin?

Where life abounds ’tis addressed but to thee;

with only blue skies and a sparkling green sea.

Have you forgotten your angel wings,

dear souls laughing as sacred hearts sing?

Recalling that you were always the best;

the winds of space softly assisting your quest.

Have you forgotten how far and how high,

sleeping young giants reach for the sky?

Ageless wonders as part of the race;

to appear then vanish—but all in good taste.

Have you forgotten your power divine,

to breathe and retain all that’s sublime?

For the bright star found ’twas there in the night;

the source and the image is one’s own delight.

To live life full, one stays on the course

as a vital young spark and