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 “hope

A Mix of Passions


If while listening to heartbeats,

I could recognize a pace,

a steady beat of love,

oh, to know the passion of time.

 

I would channel my desire,

to hold true that pattern of

every manner of a cooing dove,

give Grace to this my kind.

 

If wants more easily defined,

would we have an everlasting

key for that eternal bliss we see,

when falling further forward.

 

If when seeking sweet remedy,

could a person so tenderly,

allow only time to fade the sky,

the world upon might carry on.

 

If when she then glanced my way,

would it be that for every day,

might my love be her muse mystique,

carry on sensuality in magic’s way.

 

Oh forever have the challenges defend

the loss, the failure of this spoken way,

love is a fallen sea of treasure,

we might always seek a measure.

 

If for now I could see in her eyes,

might I then forever be so wise.


In A Quiet Twilight


her_ghost_in_the_fog_by_dimmfreak

There’s been a lot of talk recently,

about what it is,

what we have,

how the world seems to function,

though we’re an anomaly to

the truth.

 

I came home tonight,

yes, a sort of settling fashion,

so often I’ve felt out of place,

in a wonder,

not knowing really,

where home might ever be.

 

I knew it once,

when in her arms,

she cradled me,

oh, yes, I am a man,

but there is something rather

fortunate,

when a woman does hold your

soul in everlasting love.

 

So, tonight,

I’m aching a little bit,

there’s a settling sort of peace,

knowing love,

knowing she does love,

knowing,

is really all that matters

some times.

 

Then comes the wonder,

in the night,

the twilight with the crickets,

singing that familiar song,

we both agreed,

last week, indeed,

we listened to the same

melody.

 

In the quiet of the twilight,

I do love

her.

 

* photo found on Deviant Art

 


Waiting To Wake


Last night while waiting,

the storm did break, and feathered the county,

with a moisture, spoke of desire.

 

Walking with slow purpose,

a ledge that rounded a vacant depth,

so callous the rock, I wouldn’t touch,

yet humbled I am by every step.

 

There is this place I am wandering,

a soul in search of reckoning,

afraid of my aftermath,

knowing my own inclement weather,

creates such a sallow fury.

 

I listened to the raindrops,

patter my windows, pounce shingles,

I looked outside to the quiet street.

 

The walk seemed forever,

while awaiting a light,

I felt a certain draw that would

forever be my eternal wake.

 


While Love Travels Alone


We try to suggest we own,

the feeling of love,

oh, I do love you,

I love you so much,

all my love,

I will love you forever,

I love the notion of …

time.

 

It will test our ability to understand,

to compliment,

to recognize how much we love,

a sight in a setting sun,

the rush of a forest waterfall,

an essence of life’s mystery in the evocative

setting of a lush rainforest.

 

All these are matters of the heart,

and after all,

isn’t love an emotional receptor,

or perhaps it is a deceiver

for that is the only rhyme I could find,

in the balance of this testimony.

 

For I do love you,

I always will, and no matter

the deceptive nature of my words,

the truth will win itself out,

and time will be our gift.


Oh to Prescribe Time


Dali - The Persistence of Memory

Oh to know this is the right,

time,

this moment,

it is in this amount of gathered energy,

to forecast the right morning,

the perfect afternoon,

a blissful evening,

 

and then to add … more time

 

When we plan our lives around

a certain favor, a pleasing introduction,

a realized shared opportunity to

love

when we might understand,

this was meant to happen just this way,

no one might answer any of the reasoning why,

we just did,

we could,

we knew without wondering we would.

 

and then to add … more time

 

Now chapters along in the journey,

we might begin to recognize stirrings,

perhaps our lives are in different,

parallels, or regions we sometimes cannot predict,

yet in our mind,

we visualize time,

we know we are always there,

always here,

if we can only find the right

time,

the moment suggests,

we have designed our lives.

 

and then to add … more time

 

if we continue to try,

we might find we have lost

a thread,

only that quiet unravel,

takes such little time …

 

print – Salvador Dali – The Persistence of Memory


A Crushing Blow


When wanting hope,

to last, to settle in around the vacant stares,

those we own,

we scan a room with little fanfare,

our way of letting time pass beyond the norm,

it is indeed,

a crushing blow,

when hope becomes the reality of confusion.

 

Tonight, perhaps I recognize cynicism

rather alarming

to recognize a desire once felt,

seems out of reach,

beyond the norm,

the glass wall gives a perfect view

the lonely man,

wandering the open spaces,

wondering if ever there might be some

tangible evidence

allows his life to become whole again.


Muse Appeal


Its actually the way she does,

when he falters,

she manages to find the right words,

he is the constant skeptic,

always believing that this might be the case,

and then the sun rises again,

she is radiant in her peace,

he humbled by the virtue she displays,

and yet,

she has to wonder if that is enough,

or will he walk toward her enchantment again,

always seeking,

wonder,

with little regard for anything else around him,

only a certain energy,

he does desire her words, eyes, voice,

touch,

if everything might be so simple,

then his constant musings,

could be quelled

long enough for his muse to be able to freely,

breathe …