It’s only when we know
no other place felt well to go
we watched an evening snow.
I took pause,
leaned into your figure,
wrapped my fingers around loose strands of your hair,
let them fall on my chest,
your legs intertwined with my own,
covered in a single sheet,
draping our lives,
I took my hand and felt for the small of your back,
just above your buttocks,
I ran my fingertip up your spine,
until finding a place to lay my palm,
pressing my hand gently, and then with both hands
I now spread my fingertips,
so I could envelop your shoulders,
soft, naked, resting flesh,
safe in my hands,
I watched you,
sleep in peace,
I took pause.
I return here often
when I cannot have you
laying next to me,
only a memory,
the sweet breath of your gasp,
the easy rolling melody of your settling
into my own world,
it was you and me,
it was you,
and this was a me,
I had not known existed anymore,
while I watched your body move in the linen,
when my fingertips aroused your recall,
it was there I knew,
this was a certain elegance,
that we had known,
we began and we did rest,
and I would pause,
while a tear
would suddenly appear in the corner of my eye,
I was awake
to watch your beauty
a peace …
I could touch,
Like yesterday, perhaps in the moment,
to the naked eye,
such is beauty,
inherent in the persona
of a lover in her privacy.
Only quiet reminders
such is the treasure will
behold upon a man,
sweet delight is mystique.
If forever could suggest,
a need to expression,
then while the world evolves,
would my heart be held in hers.
We will remember the moment
sweet demeanor is passionate notice.
For a time, a reflective state of mind,
was my only hope,
a refreshing recall,
always with smile, a certain
sweet celebration could overcome
my any situation
if in that moment she
did return to mind.
Oh to know the many moons,
the calming sunsets,
red sky alerts to help me know,
this day was in our catalogue,
we recorded everything,
so many years ago.
Now today, in my search,
the constant would carry
my life through several cycles,
the ongoing experience, the mastery of
the human condition.
Oh, such a boring reality I might often espouse.
Then there beyond knowledge, fantasy, speculation,
her persona did arrive,
step into my world and dance,
I thought to myself,
as she moved through the room,
causing everyone to stand still,
the energy was simply thrilling,
without any need to wonder why.
Skip directly to the hello,
for all of you know
I did swoon her elegance.
The eyes, the careful smile, sweet wonder
did return and my world
seemed to embrace a new chapter.
Now while around me everyone plans,
the tasks are many,
the fortunes always a fantasy,
for my day,
for my years, for the very nature of why,
I do stand here,
in quiet repose,
I will tell you this time,
I do love,
and I always have
felt this emotion, this quiet fantasy,
I do wish
upon Love’s visit.
August 20th, 2015
When our lives settle difficult,
we wonder what will be our next
manner of speaking,
how to convey a need for love.
When our passions so unbridled,
cause our eyes, our hands, our bodies,
to want to interweave, and grace
each other’s fire with further desire,
it is in the little things she does,
when her fingertips touch my own,
and sweep the skin to help me feel
her love is an everlasting reminder.
When in the moment, our moment,
she does let my hands fill themselves
with her hair, so she feels my touch
upon her neck to allow her eyes to live.
When in the day, we do spend hours
in simple tones, conscious of each other,
in a need to display love in a quiet,
in a quiet, in a quiet manner of touch.
When in a rainfall, we wait to watch the droplets hang,
a lush forest, where a glistening fire of Her magic,
awaits our eyes, doesn’t beg, just does remain,
… and we continue to move about our day this way.
It would seem there might be a need to recognize,
She is a gift to be cherished in her every wise
manner of Grace in lighting up our lives,
to know certainty is the absolute of her mystique.
When love might be recalled, described, wondered,
there is this natural sense to look to the forest,
whereby the answers will always await the traveler,
the one who ceases step to pause, whisper the magic.
Deep inside the wood, glance into the depths, the sound
a Throstel make would carry a man’s heart further beyond
the tangible nature of life’s preoccupation only to wish
upon her soul, she is a seer, sweet mystical aura, is Love.
When in a moment,
your eyes suddenly cross my mind,
from there, I am inside you, wishful,
imaginative moments of delicious desire,
in these moments,
I am wanting to feel the cling of fabric,
suits a sweet nipple,
left to believe my tongue, a biting tease,
would wet that fabric, while your gasps,
sent my fantasy further,
hands have found me, so needy, wanting,
wishful eyes would widen
when knowing you might be getting just turned on
to know I am here
doing what you cause me to want
when surreal is the caress
of my visual
feed me please!