MI Caliente- Maria Kosilla

2007-08-26T10:09:00.001-07:00

My Favorite Dress

2007-08-23T15:31:00.000-07:00

My favorite dress is in the closet,
haven't wear the favorite dress,
that is the dress I wear,
on that special day,we cruised on my birthday,
On the dock we saw the stars!
we promised to each other,
our love will cruised forevermore,
My favorite earring is in the jewelry box,
with the heart-pendant necklace,
you gave to me to wear with my favorite dress.
I wear the under clothes to sleep,
remembering the nights you held me,
and, wish on my birthday,
this will never changed,
The day has come it changed,
and My favorite dress is in the closet.

MK

Bravery

2007-08-23T15:23:00.000-07:00

It is brave to be involved,
to say yes is to die,
turning to a dread end to die with
no shining smile!
Have lost the light that bites or terrifies one by one,
Watching porches in the night,
Still wear the uniform,
we applaud,
the president voice,
we remark on patriotism,
sing,salute the flag,
How shall we smile,
"Congratulate"
How we settle in chairs,
the iron eagle,wild in dreams,
of human mind-deepen hollow
throughout the clouds,rejoices for death,
of men who saluted, sang, for the Flag!

**Bring the Soldiers Home****

MK

My Love Forever More

2007-08-23T15:18:00.000-07:00

As if I have been sitting here by the window,
I realize the daze of the rain,
as if I have froze, ever deeper and deeper,
I realize miles away across the mountains,
your not here for I may hear the rain with you.
As I sit down on the bed, I realize
I do miss your laughter in the pleasant of the day.
Throught the forest bitter,hours,
I realize I am scare to be alone,
as if I have known your love the spell you
have cast upon me, such the magic power
of our passion.
Were upon some far away land, your eyes are looking into some
other. I have pause to listen and understand that your special
in so many ways, My love for you, will be forever more!

Copywright:MK
April 1998

A Swift Beautiful Day

2007-08-23T15:15:00.001-07:00

The runners sure feet,
the strong-witherd horse,
rivers bright veined and clear,
Swift things are beautiful,
The closing of a day,
the pause of the waves,
that curves downward to spray,
the opening flowers,
that moves in the quiet power,
Swift things are beautiful

Copywright:MK
Mar 1991

The Dance

2007-08-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, we dance holding hands,
we listen to the breathing of the stream,
I couldn't believe what I have seen,
A beautiful star, so far!
As I wish if I may,
as we dance by the bay,
voices,echoed far and near,
oops! listening to my heart so dear!
raise up in life, my love sending the glimmer
across the night!
Were all the ships are sailing across,
in twilight of ages, seems strange
while we are speaking, it is already in the past!
"A little aboved it, being only perfect,
I remember yesterday we dance,
holding hands,
We cried to the past, In autumn and springs,
Ah! yes, til then,
We wait for is again,
for the dance by the bay.

copywrigh: MK
April 1991

If you only know*

2007-08-23T15:05:00.000-07:00

If you ever know how you make me feel,
the warmth my body feel,
is like running throught a corn field,
If you ever know how I miss you,
you would probably would never leave me,
If you ever know that your world is beautiful-
You would had share your dreams with me,
You, gave me a ring,
As beautiful as a diamond,
Which diamond last forever,
you didn't want forever,
If you only knew how you make me feel,
You probably would have try!

Copywright:MK
Dec 1981

"Autumn Night"

2007-08-23T14:56:00.000-07:00

I stand unmove,do with me what thou wilt,
It is autumn;not without,
Im memory of him; I celebrate the tunes,
My heart is still in trust,
I look at his face,I celebrate the tunes,
My heart is still in trust,
I look at his face,what beauty how GOD created,
I can resist no more, the bless I have been given,
In my hands I bear,to touch o-e'r the flesh that is as soft as silk,
their shining mirror, stare by the night,
as we bared and full of the lights,
Although is dark, I turn and set by back against the wall and near to fall!
I am alone with him,I can resist no more,
the room stirring with my life everywhere,
as he touches my lovely breast,
I forgotten about the rest!
O'beautiful as our hearts grew,
ever swifter day br day,
If I may of seeing,
what we bring, we find that our prayers should not be pass,
so,silently behind him,
Before his feet, our souls shall not be the broken casket that once held me.

Copywright:MK
Feb. 1979

A Child

2007-08-23T14:34:00.000-07:00

A child look,
But,recongize no more,
the path of an open door,
the very ground beneath the child feet,
as, wondering the silent sreet,

The child walks the terrace of clouds,
just to view a punch of clowns...
Ah! Who shall answer on Divine?
Heart to Heart,
to hand a helping child,

The child will ignore of what helps or harms,
But, were are the moms,
as, in the shadow below,
theirs babies are alone,
never,since the world was made,

A child shouldn't lose or nor be a target slave,

A child shouldn't lose is heart and hope!

But,a mom should pride themselves with white roses,
to filled them with less of fear,
Sing a Say,
Oh! Return while yet you may,

Foolish children return to your homes....

Copyright: MK (I was 14 yrs of age when I wrote this)

Please help and donate a $1.00 On December 12, 2007 before 6:00 pm so than I could rush the shipments of books. (I always send clothes,and,gifts also)
mkosil@aol.com (mark your calender)

Thank you
God Bless

"The Aged Monk Who Couldn't Speak"

2007-08-23T13:46:00.000-07:00

There was an Aged Monk who couldn't Speak,
from a bench of a oak,
serving God in a prayer,
he heard the convent bell,
when he reach in his heart he felt,
the grace from his Lord,
where in were written in a book,
voices chanted in the chair,
unseen the grand results remain,

The Aged Monk Who Spoke,
couldn't sing nor laugh,
But, all is silent,sad and beloved,
praise the Lord for his meed,
the heavy hinges of the gate has open,
into this crystal goblet pour,
so such as safety you may drink,
you may drink all,

The Aged Monk, Who Didn't Hear
even the medical doctors couldn't discern,
no cure for a illness like this
patience of God!
He Spoke!

"Because of me this night for it's written"
O' Sword against my shepherd,
Lord, is I!

The Aged Monk Who Spoke,
the Father seeketh such to worship him,
God is a spirit,
and, they that worship him-

Worshipped him in the spirits,
Worshipped him with truth,
So, He said,

"I am the Aged Monk who-Could speak the art of a miracles"

By: Maria Kosilla
Copyright: MK