We do ourselves carry a manner
some desire, a sweet inspire
takes our momentum away.
Would a person wonder of
a facade before their own passion,
Do we all find ourselves posing.
When last our eyes did
glance upon the beauty of love
then our hearts together bound.
Would then our aching body presume
this fire our sensuality will consume.
I want you
This imagined
Journey
Shoulders alive
Tongue drawing
A gasp
As hands drift
Lower back
Yours react as
fingertips do seek
Your center
Wet
Your moans
Now
Grasp my
Need
While together
We do reach
We will
Lips engage
My driving passion
Finds your
scream
If we could believe we were
always able
to bounce back
and pain wouldn’t matter
our lives
would be the sedentary
mechanics of a sad existence
we all fight to avoid
there are those
moments of happiness
keep us wondering
We wander in our minds
I wander in mind
always wanting some
nearby beauty
some grace
to let me feel a certain joy
I’m lacking
I am lacking my happiness
©️ Scott F Savage 2019
Silent is solace
A chance to heal we suppose
Heart spare my malice
There was a time when song seemed a natural path,
the flowers along a walkway glisten in the rain,
a shadow of fear lost upon a sunlit horizon
for everywhere we look might smile sweet love.
Wish that a melody could walk me in a forest
feel the natural scratch of brush along naked skin,
the rustling of autumn leaves give way to the cold
deadening nature of our forever changing season.
I wished tonight I could hear her voice again,
so many hours of wonder, of hope, when a tear follow
the natural course of life when lost inside a dream,
a hope, a passion, silent reminder of when, only then.
This common theme of grateful eyes, and distant fond
the grace of some familiar trail that would our eyes become
now a simple nostalgic fairy tale, that once could be believed,
would now be perhaps romanticized beyond our reality.
I wanted to hear you, to see you, to sense your presence near me,
oh to know the beauty of your elegance I once could hold so dear.
© Scott F Savage 2019
Eyes
are real
hers in moonlight
the scent of a passion
soft a hand
upon my shoulder
in that naked moment
a sleepless night.
Would love
in some surreal
typical tragic
arena of judgment
be so shallow
might present
in an alternate state
still would she show
sweet elegance
he may know.
For it is
this our forever
unresolved
yet solace is truth
when lost
chosen
in truth
we do our love
internalize a freedom.
©️Scott F Savage 2019
The winds would suggest
a storm ahead,
a quiet breeze
letting summer’s flower garden
hang on for a lasting parade
of memory,
inside a dreamer’s holiday.
Evenings have a certain silence
readying for the change,
a security is needed
to protect ourselves
from the rains turning to
a wintry mix of
Nature’s shroud.
If we might fantasize,
a chance to know our sweet
horizon to share our eyes,
inside the shelter
of a calm,
the simple elegance
of having you in my arms
would be we might know this gift
is a quiet remind, two lovers adrift.
© Scott F Savage 2019
I feel an exhaustion tonight,
a quiet light,
on a simple horizon,
guides me forward,
though the fatigue is rather
annoying,
in its curious attention driving
reality.
As nonsensical as it seems,
sometimes the most confusing
state of mind,
is certainly more telling than
an obvious declaration of purpose.
© Scott F Savage 2019
 | a quiet man on Untitled |
| a quiet man on Desire |
 | glitzyritzymommy on That Day I Fell In Love |
| a quiet man on That Day I Fell In Love |
| glitzyritzymommy on That Day I Fell In Love |
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