Hi, readers! We have a real treat in store for you today, a spotlight on a book by S.V. Cobets, a talented author!
This collection of Poetry is a summary of my selected poems that I wrote for many years. I hope that you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. In this collection of poetry are collected all of my feelings that I want to share with you through verse.
S.V., an author I met on my journey, has a blog tour running right now.
Let's check out the details, shall we?
The Child of Happiness:
This collection of Poetry is a summary of my selected poems that I wrote for many years. I hope that you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. In this collection of poetry are collected all of my feelings that I want to share with you through verse.
Genre: Poetry
Release Date: March 21, 2016
Purchase Links:
Universal reader link: https://books2read.com/u/mvvBOj
Add it to your Goodreads bookshelf: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29605369-the-child-of-happiness
Sounds intriguing!
Here is an excerpt from The Child of Happiness.
SHE IS COLD AS ICE
In place of a heart, you have an endless land of ice And you protect it from warmth. Instead of luck, you have a forgotten world As cold as the middle of winter.
In place of flowers, you have countless crystals Which are bound to the high mountain. Instead of Love, you have perfect silence Which protects you from truth.
Cold as ice, you look down the floes And you want to hand over the coldness to somebody. But all who wanted to know you have died; Do you wish to give them your frozen heart?
A PIECE OF THE SKY
The sun and the roses, A piece of the sky. I can’t give you more Although you need much more.
I’m giving you a tear, A soft kiss, Some warmth of my soul, And a look in the distance.
Give me some hope And a little wish And tell my heart That you care.
WITHOUT A TITLE
My shoes have worn out from long travels, I’ve walked for years, months, and days. Mainly here and there I’ve found what I’m interested in, Some river or sea, clean and blue, Green mountains, grey and white. Sometimes the people always suffer, Some who talk for talk’s sake, Wise men, ninnies, smart ones, and those in love —They have all passed me. I don’t know where to follow my feet For now, they are barefoot.
Sometimes I sit and look into the distance; I’m scared of all those tracks, But when I get up and set off, Each fence falls down. Maybe I bring silence in me; Words leave me slowly, But I’m in love with the wild.
MORNING SILENCE
This post first appeared on Marie Lavender's Writing In The Modern Age, please read the originial post: here
