She walked away from me that day,
it was meant to be in a sort of way,
all of our words had run quickly astray,
we no longer are who we were today.
I reference the torn bark of a crisp twig
like a naked child the roots now the fig
exposed and vulnerable, a worn out gig
and yet could no longer redress its wig
love is a battle of sorcery in human nature
when do we understand it is our mature
reckoning, the time to understand Nature
does have a handle on all that we assure.
I am many years away from knowing you,
yet in an autumn sunrise, might I see blue.
I’m not talking about me, to be sure,
would rather not conform to being
a regular guy, suitable to pressure,
that anticipation, integrity’s earning
value precedes old foundations, envy
the sort that callouses my arrogant eye.
I would that welcome sheltered covey,
a place to dream, a place to certain espy.
Walk paths of virtue, tell tales of desire
mix emotion with pragmatic dialogue
we will certain ignite an oily fire.
Fortune lies and later creates a fog.
I do believe we have said hello before,
yet today, I wish you peace forevermore.
These are the things in my way,
when in a moment of weakness
I do wonder if maybe in today
would we learn to now stress
that beauty which drives our soul,
a constant yearning to be inside
aroused to such a degree as whole
encompass anticipation’s ride
the wave of sea worthy challenge in
the crest, the wallow, the slow churn
of unraveling her slowly from within,
to have her respond that I might learn.
What is truly beauty beyond a release
now might in finding hers be my peace.
Beauty does speak aloud in the daylight of our lives,
while we gather ourselves, and meander our way,
she simply appears, without any reason love revives
in postured elegance, in sweet eyes, in her sway.
When she would place delicate hands on careful hips
a man nearby might suddenly jolt their coffee cup
in some ridiculous fashion capable of sinking ships.
Will she notice out of pity or smile to say, ‘what’s up?’
He would if a smart man tell her everything is alright,
for fear if then her generosity will suddenly a stance,
alter the look his eyes felt when first he thought might
she notice me, or appear that my glance only chance.
For when it is our physical beauty does stop our heart,
we might then recognize ‘woman’ paints lovely art.
In the throes of love, we toss one another across the bed,
with wild abandon our kisses pushing our limbs to the side,
opening closets we occasionally leave secured instead
a quiet waiting desire, that begins a stir from deep inside,
waits to be tapped, hopes triggers will release, oh please
stop the light feathers, flitting circles, and firmly draw me in,
her smile is knowing with the ache of pleasure’s tease.
His arms reach, strong hands, firm on shoulders pin
her wet suck to the linens, eyes that suggest soft,
I am in control now, I want you to take much pleasure,
in the slow deliberation, tongues touch, sudden, hips aloft
to feel each other’s fire begin to mingle, gasps reassure
Abandon’s animal yet response, gentle coos of a dove
whilst the heat of exchange, their need, elegance in love