I often wonder about notions,
an idea, plays out in my head,
I formulate my own opinion,
a funny sort of discrete decision.
Not yet, my mind tells me,
not ready to share with anyone else,
and there begins the battle,
because I do,
I so want to,
there’s a part of me that wants to free the world,
my world I suppose,
actually, our world,
because I think, wait a second, I mean,
we all seem to … have a want;
so that everyone around me will know
what’s in my head,
what I’m imagining,
Thinking about this.
For there is little else to suggest,
what is the fair nature of her season,
when an urgency to respond, let energy overcome
is all that seems necessary in a day.
Glance toward the beauty of woman,
she is that provocateur, a natural sense
of human nature on display,
yet, her inner peace ought be a certainty.
Indeed, the summer air does so trigger
an elegance in nature, in primal response,
yet so is the wonder of our soul
drawn to fulfill each moment we despair.
While walking alone today, a sunlit stage,
I do imagine her, in simple luxury,
the key to sweet solace her unspoken
elegance be my charge to rest my heart upon.
I wonder if the essence of silence be meant to steer
The mind to find replacement with a lonely tear
For while the imagination compel anxiety and fear,
One might slow recognize such is passion austere.
While she is the center attraction to my contentment
I wander through measures of memory silent lament.
She is the soul, hers is the ailment I wish to compliment
With swift memory, a certain sweet solace implement.
I did once know her to hold me with impressive demand
The sort a man might forever search in vain a land
Whereby woman becomes the love of outstretched hand.
Yet while the days pass slow, I remain in a fashion
That man that once imagined this only a provision
Toward her elegance, a certainty in eternal passion.
That place where delight continues the day,
the mood of beauty,
laughter in peace,
sweet eyes and passionate smiles.
That glance across the room with wonder,
hoping to catch her,
might bring eyes a state of mind.
That peace that gives the mind some way,
to comprehend fully,
of woman in the throes of surreal.
That sensual nature of reason to wander,
the skin comes alive,
the need clear,
to recognize simple elegance is true.
We would discover if eyes met in chance release
the fog of indecision suggests timing is peace.
May not, cannot, will not,
I shant imagine otherwise,
whilst the world itself
in heartfelt harmony
if I am to presume,
I will not know you well.
For the sanctity of a privacy,
life does grant opportunity,
yet only the beauty of grace
allow any deep felt sanity.
In words your magic is alive
in the pictures drawn,
the notion I derive,
yet apart, afraid, away from me,
I must realize the peace it be.
Cherish only the remarkable passion
we all live together, in want of fashion.
stand in the mirror
today I am a woman
beauty, elegance, soft, sweet
moment when only I
can compose my melody.
I do feel my forearm caress
my smile could indicate
I will give this to you,
my lips suggest
is this what
a universal notion
shall I keep this moment for myself,
the glance is so exhilarating.
I do know the essence of touch
when in my posture fresh,
I imagine …
skin alive in damp repose
to blend the steam of my passion
with today’s reality.
I am woman,
so please hear me,
listen to me breathe,
understand me that this
my internal discretion
will respond with grace.
I will delight
when you no longer
repeatedly extinguish my light.