My Love For You

My Love for you is great,

It is an emotion well locked in the pads of your desires,

It’s like a layer of satisfaction to all your emotional cravings,

A delicacy to your soul,

Just like a heifer mowing on the morning grass,

Buttered with the saintly sap of a warm morning’s dew

The satisfaction therein,

My love for you

(c) Denpal Poetry 2013

Written by Dennis Riungu

Forsaken Love II :: At The Cal-De-Sac

Every Penguin gets to sing a song
A male penguin accompanies a tap, hop and a ding dong
It’s called a “heart-song”
A female penguin will respond to the happy feet in a strong
Back-up and will meld in the female version of the dong
The resulting is a delightful orchestra in romantic void of a throng

Just like a sparrow I’ve got one song in my repertoire
This I will sing it to you time and times again as a warbler
Recite it to your whiskers not just as a wistful whisper
But tend it in your heart’s secret with the cry of a distant weep
Lick your soul with my tears of solemn feel that go deep
Eloquently I will bleed for your love to spur
Love will retake the path of a soul reaper
I’m way shy of a starling and will not mimic a caw and chirp
Like a wren I will define my call note then peep
A kill-dear would take a broken foot to pursue
But I, I will compose a lilt to my call note for you
And love, you will respond to my happy feet when your love for me is due

Inasmuch as I shake my head with the vigor of an African Grey
Seemingly short-changed and rejected I yearn for the ray
That moment I grind my beak in content
Grab a breath, bobbing my tail waiting for the green feeling to entirely torment
Fan and flip it, fluff my feathers and be un-looking
Swaying in the hang of a slack hope of least attention, whilst I, affection seeking

Happy feet I will tap and mark our territory
I will chirp for you and as your ranchboy will purr your glory
So if I be unable to reach for my head and comb my crest
Cockatiel, for you I will make a begging chirp of attendance, just a look, and I shall not rest
Let off the rub of good stone a rough perch
If I go un-noticed and lacking your love
Just don’t hold back and release my humble song-bird
For it is only for a season, a season is not a lifetime I promise
Hold back my regurgitate, for when it is season, it is only you that I have
For in my lifetime, a humming bird I will hang upside down and chirp on
Lie on my back, and sleep

Prequel of Forsaken Love II: Forsaken Love I

Poetry

This section about poetry is one of my quests to implore it's capabilities to bring emotions into being and other various functions of poems.If you indeed love, understand and value poetry as such, please feel free to share it with me and other poetry lovers.

It doesn't take you to be a poet lauriet to join in!

What is Poetry?
While,poetry is a intiguing art that is usually not understood by everyone.But for those who discover the sweetnes of it's intrigues, they are better at understanding it and never look back.

While, my defination for a poem is this-"A composition of particular high ordered words in a special order to bring out a certain emotion in a person"
But maybe my defination is not something for everyone to go by.Hear is some rhyming definations from those who have halso been into the wonderful art of poetry:

“Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of emotions: it takes it’s origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.”
By Wordsmith.

“Poetry is more philosophical and of higher value than history”
By Aristotle.

“Poetry is something more than good sense, but it must be good sense at all events; just like a palace is more than a house, but it must be a house at least.”
By Coleridge.

“Even when poetry has a meaning, as it it usually has, it may be inadvisable to draw it out…perfect understanding will sometimes extinguish pleasure.”
By Housman


Tweet #Denpalpoetry Written by Dennis Riungu

Adager's Prowess

Adager’s Prowess

The old and wise adagers once said

They said that old is gold

My clear conscience rebutting in blunt cacophony hails

-When Taco stores it stales 

It’s tinge of incessant aroma decays

The snout of the weaver-nightingale pays

And the wooed prowess of the once wise ten dismays

The old and wise adagers twice said

They said that time lost is never recovered

In refute I stamp as ever opposed

-Why is it then, if I revisited my vineyard in Land’s-end

The big eye of the sky, there, will still persist unfrowned

Whilst from whence I Rome, it retired early ago

And trees whispering undiscreetly bent to let the winds escort the day home

The old and wise adagers thrice said-

Those who speaketh knoweth naught; the wise uphold silent stand

-Then why is it that I comprehend

Luther, Solomon, Po-Chui, Lao-Tzu, Shakespeare, Wordsmith…

Composed thousand word masterpieces and placed a wreath

Ought’nt they have been covert and stealth?

Adager’s prowess my foot!

Although the old and wise adagers multiple-wise said

Ramsey Ullman, calm (not like a mouse) also said:

“To know a little less,

Understand a little more’

It seems to me is our greatest gift.”

Anonymous also had a rhyme to fit:

“Good intelligence is power, and so is dynamite.” Who’s right?