It is difficult to say
When love begins to engage
Beyond the normalcy
Of a quaint, sometime
Triggers the senses
To entice the moment
In all its simplicity
Will without warning
If by choice in the chaos
Of recognizing the human condition
We decide for ourselves
It is the right time,
That today beyond any other
Would mean sacrifice for love.
I do recall
That first morning
The summer had begun,
In the wonder of authenticity
Only when doors opened
And she walked into the room.
It was there I made a choice,
I would fall in love with you today.
Know me when I suggest, the time it took to favor love,
is like a flashing seen by few, yet felt eternally.
It is that moment when your eyes do sparkle
when your hair holds luster,
your legs, oh my …
When time allows my love to reach for your heart,
a slow methodical touch of passion that would suggest,
when gone again, I will love you from afar,
until next time,
until your eyes avail my desire.
Oh I cannot define the hours of need,
when my body yearns to feel the center of your dreams.
I only ask for this moment to become a memory,
all told a nostalgia repeats itself whenever could
our lives cross paths with importance and purpose.
We are the delicious nature of an instinctual reality,
it is that time we are known
the time it takes,
the moment when two lives become one,
oh to favor time.
I wonder sometimes when people glance,
if the resonate nature of being human
lasts beyond a moment,
just past the time it takes to see
whatever it is they need in their own lives
to respond accordingly.
I took a walk in early morning chill,
strolled past frosted windows,
ice sculptures lit with calendars,
made from ice cream tubs
consumed and cleaned and saved
for holiday accent the neighbors might see.
I wander through the world with certainty
brings me to my destination,
like a Simon and Garfunkel melody,
I seem to realize the world around me,
except to suggest any confidence
in anyone ever understanding me.
We all have secrets, paths, ambitions,
though seldom are we told,
to share our deepest plans with the person
just nearby without a care,
instead we keep the door open
to a new voice, perhaps the one that matters.
I have to step gingerly through my day
sometimes, in order to avoid the reckoning,
that part of me that defines my love.
Based on the neighborhood and quiet walks,
the eyes suggest so much otherwise,
that when I think of her I cry.
I always do look for those eyes that help guide me,
the ones that hold my soul wherever I may go.
When wet our bodies land,
touch the sky with open hand,
of love-making has had its fury,
and now there is rest,
is when while in your arms I feel your passion,
your eyes in mine, my mind is yours,
when quiet and stealth,
an open window is a breeze on a hot summer day,
enough to chill naked desire,
eyes alive, and we will again build our fury,
to rest again …
These are the fleeting,
the carry me along with patience,
smile as we dance through each obstacle,
sudden moment of delicious unbridled sensuality,
a certain knowing, crisp, tension finds relief
only in beauty and grace,
a quiet interlude,
that look in her eye when the moment seemed almost
like a sweet miracle of magic beyond the escaping breadth
of our contained human nature.
When only the soul is complete in an effort to suggest
we can have this surrealistic moment,
everything about us together now,
musings by the lake after the spring thaw
I did a double take,
while she relaxed in the waves,
a quick look, assessing followers
without giving away the moment
lips, smile, a certain nod,
held high but not for me,
while you stole away,
I glanced to see her safe
out of harm’s way,
while we wandered
like two strangers pass
across each other’s lives.
I wondered when we might
if ever on such a day,
would we know each other
outside the shadows …
I looked at her, she seemed ok,
the day’s activities
remain the same;
We’d walk this way again,
nostalgic, you and me,
without any need to stay.
* photo found on pinterest
Where I stand physically is so apparent,
yet walk inside my mind,
(for some it is known)
for others what is that reality
that creates a need to know
When walking outside in the rain,
I feel the drops
nail me with every step,
feels good really often more than not
so wonderfully romantic.
how wet you were afterward just seemed
to make the night go deliciously smooth,
but that’s another matter.
*photo found on pinterest