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Poems By Poet Lawrence S. Pertillar  7/6/2015 4:14:39 AM
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  Best Poems From
  LAWRENCE S. PERTILLAR (February/'47)
 
 
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  117.     

Standing Out In A Crowd

If I could trade off my moody disposition,
For one that didn't openly convey...
Something done has struck a nerve.
And I didn't feel deserving,
Of an activity directed towards me...
Served with intent to leave me lamenting,
I would be left standing out in a crowd.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  118.     

Sunsets Come To Make Me Wish

The glow of colored sunsets,
Makes me think again...
Of places I've been,
And where tomorrow brings me.

Sunsets...
Remind me of the ways,
How a blooming can end...
From a start that began.

Those sunsets,
Come to make me wish...
For such beauty like this,
To stay until the dawning comes to lift...
The dew as Sun rises,
Clearing morning mist.

Those sunsets,
Come to make me wish...
For beauty like this,
To never go.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  119.     

When In Rome

When in Rome,
One should adjust to do...
Those activities that Romans choose.
It is not one's place,
To advocate...
What IS or IS NOT acceptable.
Or in poor taste.

When 'not' in Rome...
And that visit of condoning,
Has been left behind and alone...
There is no obligated need,
To continue to feed those traditions.

And 'when' one finds it comforting,
To do what one wishes in one's own home...
That's when it is best to profess and address one's beliefs.
With a feeling,
If one so desires...
To dismiss what is not suitable or fits.
In one's 'own' environment.
With no debate or argument to invite about this.

When 'not' in Rome.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  120.     

Without A Spark To Ignite The Flame

I hear your voice,
In ever changing whispers...
What it is you feel,
On those days you choose to say...
Words you wish me to believe are real.

But I can not trust,
What it is I can not feel.
Or be made to believe...
A feeling that is not there,
Can be made for me to know is real.

Unspoken is that touch that reaches my heart.
Silent are those embers that warm and linger.
Not stirred by words...
Just to have them heard.
Unspoken is that touch that reaches my heart.

I hear your voice,
In ever changing whispers...
What it is you feel,
On those days you choose to say...
Words you wish me to believe are real.
Unspoken is that touch that reaches my heart.

And a passion within me just will not burn...
Or start,
Without a spark to ignite the flame.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Lawrence S. Pertillar