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Heya :-) I left you a message on my profile, I hope that's proof enough for you.


girhbfi

Hey you, How's it going? %A I am having a rough day, and would love someone to talk to.%A If your bored, write back and lets chat.%A

Click On Picture To Purchase My Book!

My book of poetry, "LOVE,IS,THE BEAUTIFUL BLACK WOMAN" by Vernon J. Davis jr. is available at Alibris.com, Amazon.com,Buy.com,
Barnes&Noble.com,my publisher-- Authorhouse.com. YOU CAN ALSO VISIT YOUR NEAREST BARNES&NOBLE OR BDALTON BOOKSTORE! (To All the Men--GIVE HER THIS GIFT OF POETRY!)
Drop by and let me know what you think or just drop by and chat! My E-Mail: vernjdavis@yahoo.com

"WE WRITE WITH WONDROUS WORDS WELCOMING WISDOM WILLINGLY!"

Simple words are chosen, yet so few spoken, to create a women expression.
Mention embracing this emotion as it racing and pacing down the empty corridors ot a
Spiritual being.
Knowing scars cannot be heard but seen underneath the skin , and seen daily are pain helh within
Although everything has to begin and all must eventually end ,day-by-day struggles blossoms
Its true worth ,if the out come is a friend.
Blend hope with reality watching time turn silently, ticking away percious seconds that could
be used towards forever together in a fantasy where magical tails come true, limitless
skies are always crystal blue, all wrongs have been righted focus united for destiny can allways
start fresh and anew.
A genuine smile greeted by another smile has been quite awhile, from caressing numerical
digits dialed as the tone hums with the activities of bumblebee?s looking for sweet nectar, mean
time praying for festivities or release from inflicted antiquities.
Connection of internal flames that can never be extinguished by rain meant to rain parades on
4th of July sunny day.
Sun peeking pinnacle, seeking literal interpretation.
Morning dew wilted away by mid-afternoon perception.
Doubting love echo?s thru what if?s, why?s,sometimes who to blame.
Honesty knows no name in this cruel game, just shame shared.
From mountain ridges to prairie plains breathe losing grip miscalculation firing off range every
synaptic cortical regions in the brain.
Eyes shut tightly listening nightly to beating drums held deep inside a steal chest.
Rest assures no door, floor wall with windows, has beenthru this venue of years tossed aside.
inner vessel slowly drowning with tears panic stricken with fear.
Wondering like Vivian Greene was this an ?Emotional Roller Coaster?, or a love suicide?
A stream running by a melody , and honey bee?s ,where willow trees is all I see then that is
were I?ll be, with crushed coal engulfed by the rings of Saturn formed in a princess pattern.
Sitting upon grass spreading ashes of a little boy who passes on , while a man grows beyond
the mighty sequoia singing songs of ?Days Gone By?
Picture frame touches two lips gentler then a summer breeze; can moisture in words like
this ever lie with ease?
Two knees bent as speech is cried out begging release from sleepless night or meaningless
fights for salvation because other ideas seem far-fetched.
Etched in earth is purpose.
So perhaps movements of stonewalls falling will free glimpses into a thing called LOVET