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!

Posts tagged “coffee

Dance With Me Alone


Listen to the rhythm of my dream,

you standing near,

I can feel your heart beating,

like a song I might want to dance …

 

To the eyes standing around,

I’m normally discreet,

holding pattern,

without a sound, a tear.

 

Do we all when in a somber reflection,

feel the energy of our love,

do we yearn together,

in this universal stream of security.

 

I once wound my life around hope,

only to discover my insanity

was driving me further beyond,

any matter of suggestive morality.

 

Yet, today when inside reflective peace,

I’ve no regret the love I’m asked  release.


Gentle Breeze Will Stay


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When first I sat down in my morning wonder,

I think about place, and reason why,

glance to a man-made water flow in blue sky,

a forest green fills the world far beyond eye.

 

It is immediate always she can become my

central focus on a beautiful morning in July.

I can easily recall a time I might cry,

yet for now, sweet muse, does mind wander.

 

I took a picture as a way to describe this

silent peace, music sheltering the natural wave

of city traffic blends a natural green vision,

of Nature’s wonder in yet man-made design.

 

His search a quiet state of mind, savor the breeze

For in glance I realize why in sky I cry with ease.


Here As I Am


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I do ponder the many faces,

oh so many hours of time,

lost on the need to recognize,

a desire to know more,

and yet,

for the moment,

just this,

these eyes, maybe a smile,

certainly the extent of a hot summer day,

coffee, laptop and a little music,

and am I a part of today’s society?

 

Have I met the standard of approval,

a person may suggest to themselves in private,

while whisking away their latte,

perhaps a chi tea, or the coffee of the day.

 

We’re all here

imagining only that which we are,

in the manner of a moment capable

of grasping, while all around us,

the life of others seems to replicate the same.

 

At least the coffee is fresh,

beyond the ideals turned stale.

We might just sit here every day,

same chair, same glance through windows,

perhaps never to be noticed again,

at least so the mind seems to say.


Cafe Dreamers


There’s a rain steady,

keeping indoors the traveler

whom might be seeking the wood,

may stroll along the coast,

skipping rocks, switching thoughts,

contemplating the beauty around them,

instead,

the coffee shop,

holds promise to the conversations

around that though similar, seem different,

contain stories all the same,

yet unique,

their worlds are always different,

in the context of their moments,

until we can catch each other’s eyes.

 

We wonder about the people next door,

a table nearby our own private world,

did they speak of it,

were they aware,

was there a time in their lives when everything,

seemed similar, possible, simple,

perhaps it is true,

they say it often enough to never forget,

we’re all the same,

we haven’t any lead on the element of change

the human condition might experience the same,

euphoric wonder built upon manifest tragedy.

 

I was sitting along with my company,

my world against hers,

together we were watching our own world,

responding to the elements in a unique fashion,

yet still, very still, almost

in a sort of decopaged setting,

still life,

to be measured in someone else’s eyes,

for they are the judge of this life,

not us,

we are simply the portrait.

 

A stillness in the air,

while we wait the rains,

they might part to give allowance

to nature’s Grace in the wooded freedom

of a dense forest,

away from all wander of deception.

 

While I stood inside the sidewalk cafe,

I watched the people around me,

create lives of envy,

to balance those of misfortune,

whose measure relied upon me,

or my own eyes, or their’s or someone

nearby,

with similar passion.

 

Yet in all of our sightings,

there seems only one reality.


Wondering Out Loud in Coffee Shop


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Imagine if the world could understand

A woe as troubling in its demand

As the will of man when caught in the grind

Of a wandering mind, lost in remind.

 

Gather steam and feel quiet urgency

His heart suspends, ask certain clemency.

For one short moment, serendipity

Steps forward cries a surreal pity.

 

Glance around the room, today strangers will

Know there is true love by apparent shrill.

For though we call it inevitable

Still as her sweet heart shreds we feel able.

 

Oh to feel her soft caress, distant eyes.

Bring bodies close, let me shadow your cries.


Quiet Friday In Coffee Shop


Inside this place with so many conversations,

in lies, in testimony, perhaps a confessional,

the voices are quiet on a lonely Friday evening

when a listener might wonder if alone is real,

wishing for the banter,

the loud grinding noise of an expressive machine,

delights the aromatic nature of each possessor.

 

Tonight he waits with patience,

allows trepidation to filter into his state of mind,

the ever distant grains of sand that swept together

give a certain barrister nightmares,

but he,

the man alone in the coffee shop on Friday night,

only imagines her walking through the door to break the silence,

when she does,

he wonders if she might,

would she share the moment,

the victory of silence,

with some canned music overhead,

a surreal notion while the moon paints yards

across the city,

here,

a Friday night,

when she does appear, he will, he might,

a tear of joy,

a balance to the helpless plight,

forever love.


We Might Gather


coffee

I did see you,

everyday I would ride my bicycle,

just nearby,

always your eyes

trail me passing you by,

how often did I want to say hello,

so many conversations,

everyone is busy,

making their lives in front of the coffee house,

we all go there,

each will look like her behind the glass,

laughter with friends,

safe and out of the reach of HIS ignorance,

we are beautiful in our chuckles,

in our look inside,

crossed legs examine the comfort of a summer’s day,

and yet

my coffee waits inside,

if ever I find the courage

to walk slow past her lovely eyes.

She’s waiting,

she knows,

if only I could possibly understand just how well

she knows

~

*photo credit – tumblr.