The young man walks with an attitude,
Of never taking part in life's race,
His hand reaches out to pet his dog's shiny, warm coat.
The young man is like the deep, dark forest, so remote,
...
Read full text
Determined to devote time and time to enjoy first and study by the same time your lovely poesy.I just ha alook at it before anwsering your comment.But I found it so astonishing that I got in a hurry to read the next and than the next, ..now I'm sure I'm in front of a phaenomenon, a real poetess.Congratulations, my lady.Your reader the years to come.
This is a lovely poem, Hazel. The young man is maybe not so much a maverick but a lonely, insecure, soul. He lost someone he loved dearly and is afraid to experience that pain and grief again, he's afraid to drop his guard and let his emotions take control. If your fertile mind didn't create this story then one must assume you know the young man and you understand why he acts this way. Nice one, Hazel.
beautiful poem.really enjoyed reading it and yes a mother's love is the best love in the world...
Beautiful poem from your ink, Hazel. Nothing can replace mothers love.... Loved it.
I was very pleased to read this. Someone referred to my eldest brother as a maverick.... sadly we haven't seen him for four years.
Superb words pieced together creating a moving picture. Really beautiful heartfelt words
The best love in the world is that of a mothers love, a great poem.
A mans first love is his mother, which he seeks to rekindle in the women he loves. Good write Hazel, very inspired.
This man, a real maverick, so unfathomable and aloof who cannot be bound or chained and 'untamed as the African tigers roaming the plains, is indeed mysterious! Each detail adds to his unique personality! With the lurking memories of a love lost with his mother's death, he may be in an intense craving to reinvigorate his life with female love! ! Wonderful write! !
To remember is to have in his hands, Love fluttering eternally, As he walks around Carlow farm lands, Along the banks of the river Barrow, Carrying the pureness of his mother's love, That is the comfort of an angel watching From heaven above.............so touching and impressive. mother's love is pure and eternal. A beautiful poem nicely executed.10