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Follow your heart
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Leaving us less than whole.
It dries the body, quenches the flame,
And leaves us wandering, lost to shame.
Empty love, a shadowed thought,
A fortress of tears where hope is caught.
The sword of love, both iron and fire,
Breaks upon words of reckless desire.
AUTUMN WHISPERS IN PARIS
“On an autumn evening in Paris, I walked beneath the golden rain of leaves, their whispers carried by the wind. The city felt alive, as if it, too, breathed the poetry of the season.”
The autumn wind calls, soft and low,
Through Paris streets where shadows grow.
It stirs the leaves in a golden flight,
A fleeting dance in the fading light.
The Seine reflects the twilight’s glow,
Its waters deep, where dreams still flow.
Beneath the arches, the city hums,
To the rhythm of footsteps, as evening comes.
The air is sharp, the world feels near,
A tapestry woven with love and fear.
The bells of Notre Dame softly chime,
Marking the hours, stealing time.
A cafе table, a pen in hand,
Words take flight at fate’s command.
The city speaks in a thousand ways,
In autumn whispers, in smoky haze.
The wind may chill, but hearts stay warm,
Sheltered by love in every storm.
Paris in autumn, a bittersweet song,
Where moments linger, though nights grow long.
RAINSONG IN THE CITY
“As the rain fell, I stood at the window, watching the city blur into a painting. Each droplet seemed to carry a secret, and the rhythm of the storm stirred something deep within me.”
The rain begins, a gentle sigh,
A silver veil from a tearful sky.
Each droplet dances upon the stone,
A hymn for the lost, the wandering, alone.
The rooftops glisten, the streets take sheen,
The world reborn in shades serene.
Windows blur with a liquid art,
Each streak a story, each smear a heart.
The scent of rain—earth’s quiet prayer,
Lingering soft in the heavy air.
A rhythm steady, a timeless beat,
A soothing balm for weary feet.
And as it falls, it seems to say,
“Pain will pass, just as clouds give way.
The darkest skies will always part,
For rain is the language of the heart.”
When the storm subsides and silence remains,
The world is brighter for the cleansing rains.
And in the stillness, the soul may see,
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очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей