NSFW – Adults Only Please – My goal with this page constantly evolves – there was a time when all I wanted was to pique a woman's interest in the hope we connect through writing, dialogue … today, with all of the wonderful inspiration I've received, my need is to further my respect and intrigue in the sensual nature of 'woman' in all of her grace and elegance. I do hope you might enjoy!

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Before the Dawn


When our lives understand a natural peace,
We listen with our hearts, mind rests,
The twilight of meaning suggests
Only now might quiet stirs sound release.

Inescapable is the presence of our dawn,
Will arrive, have meaning, purpose
Lives matter in waking a quiet repose
As we again, always, begin in love to fawn.

There is a natural beauty in a somber tone
To knowledge begun in afterthought
When piece together that we wrought
Only to know our lives could forever be one.

It is that silent memory of love in kindness
Eyes awaken to a new dawn, an awareness.

serious fallings


She asked him if he still loved her,

the response was fast, immediate, truthful,

yet, he knew the answer fell flat on her mind,

he couldn’t any longer dissuade her disillusionment,

yet he hoped,

he laughed and her frown turned to an upward, happiness,

if only in this moment,

he wanted to cry,

yet she wouldn’t let him.

Instead, he felt like she could no longer

love him.

Cryptic Voices


Analyze these imaginary words,

the ones he’ll never hear, say, want to

reveal for fear

the end will be near.

He wished he might see her smile,

hold onto her lovely guile,

yet when he tried,

there seemed no end to wonder,

what was it he just said,

did it mean the same to each of them.

he holds on for there is always love,

yet he wonders,

is this time to return,

or will the next journey find his heart

passing by memory,

looking beyond the now,

realizing that just then was a glance into

yesterday.

He wants tomorrow, but will not find it alone.

Not Knowing Why


I know how

can see the distance is real

a universal reality

We all notice when we take

the time.

Question is how do we ever

Really know why, beside some doctrine

told me, told her, you, me, every other,

we can lose time

forever,

but I chose a blind eye,

if only a short while;

it was there I began to know love.

In Disconnect Mode


When the switch is removed altogether,
There isn’t an option,
No longer can I decide to say yes,
Or never no,
Never to suggest my time is sacred,
I would give you the world for an opportunity,
To say hello.

Like chalked sheetrock across my horizon,
A buried reality,
A disconnect like none felt
Though perhaps over a decade ago,
Strangely now,
I feel this deja-vu
I didn’t believe I would sign up for again.

I look at words,
They can be literal signatures,
Referenced, remembered, recalled, reciprocated,
Yet, strangely,
A word or two, a phrase can be a testament,
And we are left to decide their meaning,
Ourselves.

I choose to mean well, without any disappointment or regret.
Oh, to understand the ramifications of love in disconnect.

In This A Somber Mist


I find the strength to move forward,

in the reminder of her beauty,

that which I could only grasp a real,

no longer any sweet fantasy.

I stand along a river edge in memory,

the sunlit banks of summer,

her hands in my hair, mine in her own,

we did know our surroundings.

 

In the wonder of time, my life an event,

now the curtains close and dust

begins to settle around the swept wood

where our dance would stir the world.

I, in fond retrospect, hold only one regret

when to imagine the elegance of love,

one could only hold on to dreams alone,

just nostalgic recall of her delight.

 

While every motion, each autumn stood near

we did a spectacular journey appreciate,

the hands of care , the eyes of certain demand.

Those were the minutes of our time.

Would love ever allow our reality to swoon,

in the shadow of a neighbor, a friend, child

we gathered strength to know the cause,

when time did finally spell our lives to part.

 

Oh to know the essence of what is this value love,

when pain and sickness do in place of real command.

 

 

 

Strength of Time in Sad Tone


In a sunlit room, sitting alone, wondering,

where to go, where this leads, what time,

while spring suggests to everyone we are alive,

are there any assurances we will ever be the same.

 

A powerful throng of medley stands behind,

I listen to the heart inside a dream, a melody

sings to me in tears another ballad forgotten,

or shall memory in its certainty remind me of love.

 

I sit alone and a familiar energy encompasses

my everything, my world, my desire … such is

passion when the soul can ache for someone,

she, who would define my ever lovely fantasy.

 

When toward a reality we did travel in summer,

I in her hands and she in mine together smiles,

oh so is the contrast when the brilliance around me

is only to be a shadow belonging to another time.

 

Is it in the wisps of our nostalgia, the beauty of then,

that we hold onto, waiting for that next delightful breeze.

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