Ike Poems

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Thinking of You...

If you think it long and mad,


I've been thinking about you. the wind of banners
And I know I don't say it often enough, that passes through my life,
but I appreciate all you do. and you decide
I've never known anyone as giving as you. to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
You always go that extra mile remember
to inspire and encourage me. that on that day,
You make me want to try harder; at that hour,
you make me want to succeed. I shall lift my arms
You've made me and my roots will set off
believe in me. to seek another land.

For this and so much more, But


I'm sending good wishes if each day,
to your door. each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
A Thought Went Up My Mind To-day with implacable sweetness,
Emily Dickinson if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
A thought went up my mind to-day ah my love, ah my own,
That I have had before, in me all that fire is repeated,
But did not finish,--some way back, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
I could not fix the year, my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine
Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas
Nor definitely what it was,
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Have I the art to say.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
But somewhere in my soul, I know
I've met the thing before;
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
It just reminded me--'t was all--
Because their words had forked no lightning they
And came my way no more.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
I want you to know
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
one thing.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
You know how this is:
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
if I look
Do not go gentle into that good night.
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
if I touch
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
near the fire
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
everything carries me to you,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
as if everything that exists,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
aromas, light, metals,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

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