Please do not copy these.

I walk with you holding your hand,
Look at the sunset and our footsteps in the sand.
Your beautiful eyes and smile touch my heart;
I'd like to say I love you but where to start.
Our friendship knows no limit;
I can no longer hide it, I don't know how to say it.
Do you love me like I love you?
I hope this can be something lasting and true.
                      — Christian J. Robinson

You are so young, little magician!
to teach your pet with far-flung stones,
and when you named your pup
         King Arffer
he took up quest for dragon bones.

Now dusty, smelly, comquoring Arffer
drags before your feet his prize:
O! do treat that dragon gently-
it's a poor dead rabbit with red eyes.
               — Valoa S. Robinson

To The Modern Sophist:

You? Learned? Then prove yourself
Or my naivete is the wiser half -
   Please go dig up
   a "golden mean",
   Or breed a unicorn;
   (Then I'll capture that modern freak,
   the "ordinary
   average man.")
Your humor and books stay on the shelf
Since you sold honesty for fame and wealth
And somehow even the many degrees
Only prove you're learned in idiocy.
   You deal in myths
   line "golden means"
   and average men,
   And scoff at truth -
You think you think. I think I'll laugh.
               — Valoa S. Robinson

I'm a little jelly bean tree;
won't someone take care of me?
I'd be a lot of fun
to play on in the sun
and you could have a treat -
my fruit tastes really sweet.
Oh, won't someone take care of me,
a lonely little jelly bean tree.
        — Rebecca J. Robinson

The crimson light,
it fills my head
with this dark night.
That ghastly red.
Oh hate and pain,
thou art my soul!
I wish the rain
could make me whole.
No time to mourn,
the sun is here;
the day is born.
I must not fear.
Rouse the men,
it's time to fight;
and make again
that crimson light.
  — Rebecca J. Robinson

    Gossamer wings touch petals of blue,
   springtime turns life a wonderful hue!
The blossoms aplenty give a marvellous scent;
and a moment in the garden is time well spent.
The birds in the meadow sing loudly and long -
the earth comes alive with thier joyous song.
   Summer and autumn and winter are fine,
      but we all have our favorites
         and springtime is mine!

          — Rebecca J. Robinson

A butterfly's wing
creates a breeze at night.
A bird begins to sing,
and singing takes to flight.
The song is of a dream
of wind and misty light;
and touched by sunlight's gleam
The dawn mist flees from sight.
This is how I think of you:
Your golden hair so bright.
The flowers touched with dew,
your arms that held me tight.
Memories are so fleeting,
I can't remember now
the first time that you touched me
or how you held my hand,
But I recall the beating
Of a butterfly's wing.
  — Rebecca J. Robinson