Her Touch

the sensory motion

of a feeling,

her touch

would in its

silent immediacy

take me somewhere

warm,

didn’t matter how

or why or when,

just the moment

that I might feel shelter

a sweet resonate

touch

would it be that this

might have

begun some silent sojourn

only I

could endeavor

to walk away

for it was me that so

did, does yearn

to feel that sensual nature

designed in love …

your touch.

Sometimes, A Quiet Wonder

I do have to wonder about silence. What happens when two lives become a distant enigma, seemingly non-existent, the memory of which might need to be repressed. I realize as human beings we must learn to continue forward in our lives, to sometimes not look back, and yet, there are moments when it is impossible. Perhaps it might be a song on the radio, driving past some familiar memory, just a whimsical notion that we fall into. Perhaps it is because we refuse to let go of what we feel is real.

When There in the Moment

cafe

At first glance

I knew immediately

how could one not

recognize whom we grow to love

when confronted

by their reality.

 

She was looking forward,

I felt safe

if only, sheltered,

let my hand rest on a chair

nearby,

we could hear one another breathe

if she knew I was there.

 

I imagined to myself,

if this is real,

she will know I’m here

turn around

smile or walk away,

I let a dream happen in my mind

years ago the same

occurred.

 

Yet today is

was

different

her confidence in posture

seemed unreachable

seemed meant

for someone else’s touch,

their arms, lips, eyes,

I was afraid to move.

 

I then stepped backward,

quiet,

the silence was a weight

I could not overcome,

I felt the emotion

of taking risks,

of looking in one another’s eyes

and knowing

we could not

though desperate in our passion

we could.

 

Moments later,

a stroll down the cobblestone,

I found a new cafe,

settled in outside

still she was in my mind.

I took one sip of a

fashionable latte,

then,

I looked away.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

for Zelda with love

 

photo – Pinterest

So Many Remembers

There are days

upon waking

when as the sunlight slats

my life, my world,

when told we must begin,

I lay in bed in sweet recall,

oh it is another

remember when

her touch,

my fingertips

run along the scalp of her forehead,

only the real,

a movement, opportunity

to be with one another

having little desire

to move beyond just this

while finding eyes.

 

Oh I do have recalls,

the tears immediate

the results are always now

meant to be the same,

to find love

beyond the shadows

the real,

is a nostalgic remedy

to the loss

of some imaginative reality.

 

I remember when …

I remember when …

 

I wonder if when together our memory

is stronger when we wander

together in the quiet

hands touching

our minds thinking only this moment

when the forest is forever

our footsteps on the matted trail

the beauty of such

is what we once knew

love

is now a memory.

 

Perhaps it might be impossible to imagine

love can ever be lost

when we might find ourselves

caught up in a flurry

of

remember when

delight in passion meant a way

to erase a day

if only I might have

her

in my arms …

 

Remember …


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

Walking In

Its atmosphere

familiar

the sounds, the people, the energy,

a little Moody Blues,

I’m with her again,

in this moment,

I can feel the soft touch of fingertips

searching, yearning, a quiet resonate gasp,

the nature of this,

a love

we both would understand

if confusion could not lay in between,

the soft sense of a night sky,

familiar ground,

a coffee nearby,

another nostalgic notion,

I do recall

when last I did see her,

it was here in this parallel universe,

where our lives

were tied to the reality of a locked door,

a smile, a laugh, a knowing glance

a quiet evening,

when love did seem to draw

hearts closer together,

to another time,

in recent days,

lips did touch,

lives did matter,

time did

stand still while

walking in.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

for Zelda

Speaking of the Moon

It was an afterthought,

driving home,

the eastern sky suddenly on fire

my mind

in the sweet form of the full moon.

 

Oh so many moons have

wandered my mind

imagining,

a sweet fantasy turns reality,

and yet left

in a silent daze of beauty.

 

The moon does such trials to the mind,

in its mystique

reminds us all we are

glancing at the same

the sensuality of nature’s evening

illumination.

 

I wanted a picture,

to send,

to remind,

a suggestion of time,

that this is the same moon,

we did, I wished, she might

find in the quiet …


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

A Path In The Road

He said it well when struggling to know

‘two roads diverged in the wood’*

and then we found ourselves

standing alone again.

 

We walked a path together

hands held, looking ahead

not knowing where just

feeling the crisp spring air.

 

Stood on a river bank,

sat in the dried mud,

our elbows propped so

we could feel shoulders,

 

smiles in recognizing the

fisherman across the river,

his dog bounding nearby,

wondering if he might see us;

 

I remember I didn’t mind,

because I was with her,

and no one could ever

take away a moment in the sun.

 

With the one I love,

I remember wanting the hours

forever, to keep our hearts

warm with the passion of day.

 

This one day, there were many

this way, where we could walk

in the sight of day, and love

one another until the stars …

 

It was then we began to know the night

sky would beckon our realities home.

*Robert Frost – The Road Not Taken


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~