“So she loved the rain amid the fall.”

Poetry is a pleasure to your pressure.

I never understood flowers until I met you.

Fall is the rise.

At times being oblivious keeps me more alive in this chaos.

You hit the soft spot of me making my heart skip a beat.

You are my tamed fire in the wind.

Poetry is a home, a home with joy.

No pain no worries only the beating of our hearts.

If I had wings and could fly I’d fly all seas to see your unseen beauty amid the whispers of love.

Everything seems to be a design – a mixture of prejudice and injustice – the limbo of silence.

Without you, my heart will be full of weeds.

We love to live with sweet lies until reality touches the edges, of those sweet lies.

Into you, like the sun embraces the moon – a beautiful eclipse.

Loneliness is an art shaped by self-love.

We all bound by beauty with a touch of singularity.

Just realized that moonlight was just a matchmaker for the stars.

Whatever road you choose, I’m right behind you win or lose.

I could sing you a thousand and one doo-wop songs. I love the simplicity in that music. It’s not super-poetic, it’s just from the heart.

As much as I love having the opportunity to speak. I love the opportunity to learn just as much!

You really just want to know that somebody loves you for you. Sometimes you feel like an ATM machine with a wig on it.

I really appreciate my performing so much better, as I get older. I don’t take it for granted anymore. I really relish it and love it.

We’re so used to presenting ourselves and getting approval according to our achievements that it’s difficult to be authentic and trust that we’ll be accepted just as we are.

The toughest battle is fighting with the one you are fighting for.

Some women’s love of being loved is insatiable; and so, often, is their love of loving; and in the last case they may find that they can’t give it continuously to the chamber-officer appointed by the bishop’s license to receive it.