Posted by Brad Osborne on November 12, 2022 · 18 Comments
We must live like the great oak tree,
Pushing up against our gravity…
Filed under Poetry · Tagged with deeds, gravity, growing, kindness, life, Life lessons, living, love, oak, poem, Poetry, right, standing tall, strict form poetry, trees
Posted by Brad Osborne on October 13, 2022 · 7 Comments
Your love grows in the vineyard,
A gift from rain, soil, and sun,
Birth of what you have to give,
But the story is just begun.
Filed under Poetry · Tagged with desire, drunk, growing, heart, love, poem, Poetry, ripening, strict form poetry, taste, tended, thirst, vineyard, want, wine
Posted by Brad Osborne on November 24, 2021 · 16 Comments
We must live like the great oak tree,
Pushing up against our gravity…
Filed under Poetry · Tagged with deeds, gravity, growing, kindness, life, Life lessons, living, love, oak, poem, Poetry, right, standing tall, strict form poetry, trees
Posted by Brad Osborne on October 31, 2021 · 19 Comments
Your love grows in the vineyard,
A gift from rain, soil, and sun,
Birth of what you have to give,
But the story is just begun.
Filed under Poetry · Tagged with desire, drunk, growing, heart, love, poem, Poetry, ripening, strict form poetry, taste, tended, thirst, vineyard, want, wine
Posted by Brad Osborne on November 30, 2020 · 13 Comments
We must live like the great oak tree,
Pushing up against our gravity…
Filed under Poetry · Tagged with deeds, gravity, growing, kindness, life, Life lessons, living, love, oak, poem, Poetry, right, standing tall, strict form poetry, trees
Posted by Brad Osborne on January 12, 2020 · 12 Comments
Your love grows in the vineyard,
A gift from rain, soil, and sun,
Birth of what you have to give,
But the story is just begun.
Filed under Poetry · Tagged with desire, drunk, growing, heart, love, poem, Poetry, ripening, strict form poetry, taste, tended, thirst, vineyard, want, wine
Posted by Brad Osborne on November 28, 2019 · 10 Comments
Our love born within the heart of a volcano,
Molten desire heated by an explosive core,
An amalgam of hopes and dreams shared,
Churning in the crucible of rampant passion.
Filed under Poetry · Tagged with becoming new, finding yourself, free form poetry, growing, leaving, loss, love, poem, Poetry, prose, relationships
commonsensiblyspeaking 