I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. I am also into writing poetry. Come along for the ride.

When Walking Alone


There is a difference in tone,

a solitary figure in a moonlit backdrop,

the sky is a canvas capable of new horizons,

if only for a moment the character

might stand completely still.

 

Completely still inside a memory,

holding onto the silence,

a wishful recall

a sweet response to time

is all the solitary figure might choose.

 

Might choose offers certain doubt,

when realizing how time plays a role

in knowing love,

he does want to stand there forever,

in the hope that stillness might be a blessing.

 

She is that fond imagination,

the caress of somber spirituality,

the sort that energy

speaks of out loud

without any reservation, ever.

 

I once recall a story of a man,

caught inside a cycle of quiet remind,

always pushing, forever angling,

imagining the final stride would

accentuate his peak, yet the fall …

 

There is a breaking point in sanity,

when beyond the notion of real,

the body might sacrifice comfort,

instead a forever lust toward peace,

will always compel a forgiveness ahead.

 

When walking alone hopeful by design,

I would the eternal march quiet resign.

Please, your words are ever so appreciated ...

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