What an Age

What an Age
By: Adam M. Snow

What an age, to be young and full of life,
to live free with love and no strife.
To dream a land of pure imagination,
soaring on the wings of inspiration.

What an age, to feel joy and bliss,
and be greeted by butterfly kiss.
To see the world in a whole new way,
and live a life of peace everyday.

What an age, to dance and sing,
and pick flowers in the newborn spring.
To laugh and smile with a sparkle in your eye,
and lay on the grass and watch the clouds go by,
and let all your dreams ponder,
of the hereafter and going yonder.

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poem by Adam M. Snow
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My Lady Who Cries the Night Away

My Lady Who Cries the Night Away
By: Adam M. Snow

My lady who cries the night away
dost thou not know another way?
Be ye still afraid of thy dream
'Tis varied by the Dream.
Ye be not a life so free,
my maiden my life of thee be me.
Lest beknownst thy drowning fear
that hangs before her all the year.

Besought the light that now grows dim,
hope for once the love of him.
Thy cherish thy love be it not true
like the tears she shed twinkling blue.

Lest thy heart burdened be
lest she glimpse eternity.
My lady who cries the night away

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poem by Adam M. Snow
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Time and Time Again

Time and Time Again
By: Adam M. Snow

She lies gently in a bed of roses so white;
dreaming time and time again in this garden delight;
and I wonder, 'Is it me she see's in her dreams at night;
or could it be that she has found yet another light? '

Although it will come time and time again;
for us to choose love over hate and sin.
I can feel it within;
that all things must end so that anew may begin.

Time and time again I have fallen;
for my heart, she has stolen.
If only I could see her dreams within;
and soon hopefully soon, our love will begin.

So time and time again will I see her eyes so bright;
filled with our love and dreams delight;

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poem by Adam M. Snow
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Virgin Love

Virgin Love
By: Adam M. Snow

My first time loving heart;
I knew it from the start;
thus be a dream;
to let all sparkle and gleam.
If only thou knew my love;
was truly sent from above;
would I be here right now;
speaking a virgin's love vow?

How great is thy passion?
It pierces thee with fashion;
like a spear called lovers woe;
for I feel it's gentle flow.
Thus be a wish upon a star;
for I know who thou are.
Tis be but a virgin love;
sent from heaven like a dove.

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Pit of Solemn

I hold dear, a beating heart in my hand
as I stood still on shifting sand.
But the stars around me hid away,
their light has vanished upon this day.
Alas, the chains which binds my heart and soul,
rust away to a shade of rustic coal.
My heart now fades as my hand be empty;
I traveled this world on a bitter spree.

I was approached by a women, in white gown she worn;
her face was that an angel, her eyes of bitter scorn.
Out of her mouth flew a melody tune,
a beautiful song sung a croon.
The music so pure it tranced my being;
it blurred my vision, I am without seeing.
This siren song has called to me;
curse me now, upon this blood red sea.
But as I go, my wake fell upon my essence,
but this holds dear to me no convalescence.

poem by Adam M. Snow
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A Soldier's Prayer

This poem is written for our soldiers over seas. May God be with them all.

A Soldier's Prayer
By: Adam M. Snow

O' Lord my God I pray;
for I am far away;
on a land, not my home;
I'm on my knees and all alone;
as I fight for freedom and peace;
I ask, 'Let this bloodshed cease.

I am fighting a war;
on a distant foreign shore;
fighting for my family and friends;
hoping that this would soon end.
I bow my head to a flag-draped casket;
to a soldier, not a rank past private.

I pray for salvation for all soldiers dead and gone;

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By All Means

By All Means
By: Adam M. Snow

By all means, I need to ponder,
of my life going yonder.
But though I still long for truth,
I long for those who's not uncouth.
By all means, I carried out to wonder,
when flesh and spirit sunder.

But in a world such as this,
dost Thou be amiss?
But I seek what Thou has in stored;
that statement of the Lord.
By all means, I wonder to ponder,
of my life going yonder.

Misery held me 'gainst my woes,
as if my life cease to flow.
But if it be the answer of my eternal quest,

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A Dying Rose

A Dying Rose
By: Adam M. Snow

Helplessly I wait upon the hour, drawing closely;
I, myself ponder tremendously.
Do my eyes deceive what once was a rose?
And by that, does it be a rose no longer?
I speak to be heard once more,
and once more to be heard by that rose.
But I cannot see that of the beauty of her face,
yet her eyes glances swiftly beyond my essence.
Could it be? Oh could it be,
that my essence is enough to guide thee?
I am but one in groups of many,
she sees not I but one in twenty.
She is that of a dying rose,
shedding that of blackened petals;
a black rose, I say so myself.
Doomed by what the world gave to thee;
a single tear drop, which falls and taints the ground.

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Broken Lullaby

Broken Lullaby
By: Adam M. Snow

Awaken the children,
let them see,
all agony's within,
and perhaps just maybe,
they would lose all hope,
all their dreams,
all feelings would cope,
not the moon's shattered beams.

Awaken the infant,
the one who's mild,
as the moon once crescent,
now sings to that child.
All is lost,
so it seems,
like floods of life in frost,
living on shattered dreams.

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The Writer and the Blood Inked Quil

The Writer and the Blood Inked Quill
By: Adam M. Snow

The candle flickered by a passing gentle breeze;
My quill dries up leaving not I at ease.
My words upon page now left to hang.
A reader's disappointment, now a writer's pang.
Misery held me as time stood still,
My heart has fallen because my mind is ill.
I stare at blank page as all words elude me,
I can't help to wonder, 'How could this be? '
Torment follows as night falls victim to dread;
My ink once black now turns blood red.
I wrote my soul upon each page,
As time ticks by with every age.
The word itself scream an agony scream;
I, the writer without a dream.
But what bedevils myself to write,
Elude me once more with the fall of night.
My nightly whimper comes with a toll,

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poem by Adam M. Snow
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