Sharon Duveau Poems
Impatience 
Today was perfect for you,
Though I guess no one and nothing is quite perfect
I still play with the idea
That you wanted me to stay.
Behind mossy hangings
A ghastly face peers
Secretly down at... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau  rating: 
Destructive Love
Icy drops descend over you
Your hair is slightly damp
The rain's musty smell
Mixt in with your scent,
It's not as deadly
As it used to be
But the temptation is still cutting.
Like the first... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating: Little Blue Jay
Little Blue Jay,
Can I make a suggestion
To your morning tune?
Sing Bella's melody
For her to awake.
That is her window
Beside the hovering spruce,
Hop up on the pane
And sing to her,... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating: Empty
Raindrops pelt my face,
Just another part of my existance.
But I feel like I'm melting away,
Blotted out from the landscape,
Why did I even step out today?
What is the base of my... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating: The Angel from my Nightmare
Breathe..
If I run, I will see the light.
A few more paces
And certainty will secure me
Within the embracing sunlight.
If reason had me, were reason with me,
My intuition would not have... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating: Within Temptation
The moon's face appears too early in time,
A nocternal pearl amidst a still bright sky,
Lying back in your cold arms,
I discover that what you say is inevitable.
Flirting with danger,
Am I... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating: Fruit
Bottomless brown eyes,
Wells from which my reflection derives
encrested on a heart-shaped face
bring out the ugliness in my being.
These things pass unseen:
A grotesque monster,
the... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating: Wild Horses
A pool in the middle of a wood,
autumn leaves floating on its surface.
A place where time stands still.
You decide to leave after only a short while.
I call out to you, but your steps are... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating: Ambition
Lay your hand on mine, trace the line
Try to draw the majestic figure I once saw in you.
But before I do, I catch a glimpse of the clock.
It's past midnight,
The nightmares will soon start.
So... more
Poet: Sharon Duveau rating:
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