I fought hard to know the outcome of loss
a moment alone
the world moved past my sight
and I felt sorrow only my own.
Would not, cannot any longer
find peace inside the depths
of a lonely heart.
A shadow remains
yet today is sunlight ahead.
Scott F Savage 3/2021
I wish I knew the definition of Grace,
years ago, my sister defined passion,
it became less sexual
much more so the beauty of people
a regard for desire
an enhancement of what a person
might bring to our lives.
I haven’t a thought it be so far from Grace
we cannot appreciate its value
in the departure of passion,
and some aim toward
understanding,
that ability to know
such elegance in a woman, a man,
lover, friend, someone whose
eyes do tell a story we wish to continue to
hear, see, dream, anticipate
hold strong in that we come to believe.
I once held Grace to be the bond
brought me together with certain truth
once alive in my heart,
a directive toward my soul.
We do want to match up our lives in time,
imagine someone spectacular sublime.
© Scott F. Savage 5/2020
.
I’m afraid of it
this place
with so much discontent
our lives
wrapped in a purpose
yet the soft touch of beauty
when held alone,
away from our heart
gives strenth
to an irrational
option.
There is no singular reason
to imagine that compassion
only lends to individual
memory.
Yet there is,
if you think about it,
a truth to feeling loved.
When love is lost both outside
and inside our realm
of quiet existence,
it might be difficult to imagine
anything else
really will matter.
I remember one time,
walking along the shoreline,
icy depths,
I imagined
the length of time,
wading into the pool of our
natural purpose.
There is every night,
I think about that place,
if I leave here
so many memories,
so many eyes,
I’m grateful for the beauty
knowing we can be ‘great.’
in the short hours of our
quiet release of emotion.
I stood nearby the final release of
carbon
would no longer interfere
with that ozone layer
we all worried about in the 60’s.
another six decades later,
it is like I am sitting on that little hill
with the gravel path
led me to my solace.
Nothing had changed, my life,
a constant battle
trying to recognize
beauty rather than desecration.
When we fail, we might choose to prevail.
© Scott F Savage 3/2020
I suppose I would imagine walking inside
a coastal village with a soothing blend of island groove
my only wish to be Sade standing at the center
of everyone’s world in the moment, cool, winsome,
the arrangement of this name.
The human condition needs to dance
with sweet freedom, hips swivel, eyes dare,
and the mind lets go so the heart might
then design Nature’s way of melodic song
while the body allows desire to speak passion.
Oh while the world around me lives an agenda
mine is lost in white sands and a distant lover
miles away yet still close to my heart our eyes
do yearn to pull our lives next to one another,
skin on skin, sensual bodies intermingle
such is the levity of a romantic interlude at sea.
Feel the breeze please, know the moment
does exist when even if she didn’t imagine it
possible my every move was in order that she may see me
she may see me
she may see me,
and no one else near this passionate man,
could possibly hold the embrace
of her, her muse, my … this elegance
that allows my dreams to maintain
this is my forever yearn.
© Scott F Savage 2/2020
I woke this morning under the gaze
knowing well the mood
a purpose
of a lunar reminder
I’m not alone,
only with you
in the miles away
we can still find one another in a distant twilight
yours from the sea
mine a drawn shade in a temporary world.
I have this penchant to hold on
this romantic reminder
of beauty in a night sky
with such is the daylight
of a full moon
your eyes alight in its mystique
my head will swoon
when given the moment
to feel you closer to my heart
I awoke in the middle of this storm
of emotion, of transference, of reminisce
so beyond my touch only a memory
yet strong is the will of a lover
wanting only
to be inside the arms of his muse
that which she might once argue
and yet return
loving smile
painful truths we let float
deep into a distant sea.
I wish to feel
I wish to feel, again
to Z with love
© Scott F Savage 2/2020
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
I would if I could
capsule the beauty of a moment with you,
the sweet aura
effortless in the desire,
the comfort within sharing our hearts,
sharing our hearts
the soul of our passions
now understood,
evolving like the serene nature of the seasons,
feeling Autumn,
yet holding onto the autumn of
what might be
my own vulnerability,
yet apparent
is love,
love
belongs inside the heart of two people
who know the truth of
their own futility,
and then we move forward,
move forward,
lives enhanced inside the wonder
of a summer
when our wishes were allowed
the Grace inside the wandering mystique
of yes,
again,
the mystique of love
of love,
love.
© Scott F Savage 2019
If only in a moment, we might listen to our heart.
We might trust love will always exist in those quiet frames when alone we wish, we ponder, we allow our mind to wander to a softer time when we could just live within the scope of our passion.
If only in a moment, we might trust our soul.
There will be an ache because we have once known love, felt it, yearned its Grace inside a wonderful travel of sweet elegance. We can look to a beautiful sunny winter’s day and recognize there is a certain splendor in the air having the ability to recognize that emotion did bring us to a region of our heart will always be ready for quiet reflection.
If only in a moment, I might remember eyes.
For that quiet recall, I will see love, and hold on to her magic forever.
~ finding my way, a personal journey ~
for Zelda
Perhaps a song on the radio, the most familiar way to recall the one we love. A drive along a familiar bi-way where conversations took place, hands were held, knowing smiles replace the lonely absence. A farmhouse on a piece of land that had a place to sit and run our hands through landscaped rocks while watching the woods. A bench in a park that held our lives together, alone with such sweet sensuality impossible to ignore. A walk further in, a familiar bridge in a rustic wild in a place that felt like Purgatory.
Trying to figure out ways to recall what love means is certainly a struggle when one is alone with the memory. Seeing a kiss in a movie reminds me of that one time, or any time or any moment, or that moment. Looking outside into a tranquil wintry afternoon leaves the mind imagining an experience, a time when conversation turned to intimacy, turned to eyes, and what love seemingly did mean in the moment. All these memories, all of this confusion.
I’m listening to the Moody Blues, because this is always the place I go when I try to find my center. Now more than ever, the feeling of sentiment has turned to regret, a pause in the romantic nature of whom we were, and now trying to find a way to walk out of the woods with a smile rather than a broken heart. It is a memory that recalls beauty and in that recollection the melodrama perceived in the reader’s eyes matters little to the writer, for he will experience the emotion, and the reader can choose to walk away.
I’ve written for miles my confusion with love. In my basement there are volumes of memory over decades of time, that someday I might page through, but for the moment I’m drawn away because I know the memories are too strong and I don’t want to find myself somewhere I would rather return to than just recall. Yet, today, the memory is immediate, still strong, still this is defining who I am every day when I wake and when I go to sleep. The love I feel is swollen in my heart and there is little room to breathe.
So this passage is only meant to touch on what is this meaning of love I continue to search for answers to, my soul searching sometimes bringing me to tears – I try to call them wonderful tears because without the sensation of what I feel, I could not cry with the feeling and cleansing I do find myself lost in. I wonder if that makes sense to any of you readers, the point is that despite heartache, my inability to find home again, I’m still always wanting this time to be a beautiful mystique without the negative fortune of loss.
This is a love story.
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