The Gift

Once, long ago, a friend gave me a book of Poems
--gems, the fruit of many minds;
I read them, thoughtless of the toil they took
The words moved softly as a stream that winds.

But now I know the lines I glibly read
Perhaps were born of pain-a broken heart;
Regret that followed with its stealthy tread
The arrow of remorse with searching dart.

For wisdom comes with time's stern tutelage;
The years are keys, unlocking many a door;
And sometimes as I read mist blurs the page,
Here soul meets soul, a precious golden store.

Margaret E. Bruner

Definitions of Love:

It's Not True
Love
Love is...
Sonnet CII
Together
Venom
What is Love
Why Do I Love You

Friendship:

Being Her Friend
If I Had Known
Sonnet CIV
To A Friend
True To The Best
What is a Friend

Inspirational:

After A While
Hope
Life
Little Things
Loss and Gain
Human Touch
The Road Not Taken
See It Through
The Choice
Thinking Happiness
Wisdom

Love and Desire:

Come
Desire
Faults
He Fumbles
Husband and Wife
Insomnia
Midsummer
Mine Eyes
Nightfall
Other Men
Pleasure First
She Walks in Beauty
The Kiss
The Soul's Expression
When Things Are Confused


Breaking Up:

Dilemma
Let Love Go
Marriage
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Old Love New Love
Parting
Praise or Blame
When We Two Parted


Making Up:

The Quarrel