Because I Have Known Love

love

I will write to the words and the dreams,

I’ll find solace in feeling this is real,

the notes in my melody,

the wit, spoken, felt in a good phrase,

a sunny morning,

the frost on winter’s edge,

all beautiful reminders of that which is

her.

 

In a quiet meadow,

I can see two lovers

the breeze tangling their hair

so the onlooker has no possibility

of witnessing that love

their eyes share together

in the autumn sky,

watching time say good bye.

 

I once knew a woman,

she once told me,

we were in love

we knew the travels ahead

would send us down different paths

and yet,

we struggled through the high brush,

for each time we were lost

our eyes

would meet again, traversing a sweet terrain.

 

Because I have known love, I have witnessed a reckoning,

a butterfly on a soft shoulder leaves me envious in a kiss


~ finding my way, a personal journey

to Zelda with love


photo – pinterest

I Look

I do, every day,

every moment,

I look around my room,

wherever I might be,

and I imagine you

if only your spirit,

that’s all you’ll give me,

all I really deserve.

 

I’m really stuck,

I feel like I cannot turn around

without discovering another fear

a moment of recall

a place of forgotten reason

all part of a larger scheme

of wondering just why it is

I might feel any entitlement

beyond the sacrifice

of love.

Trying To Find My Way

stoic rejection

A quiet exists, in reason, in heed,

yet such is the mental anguish of silence.

A man wants some center to love

while she is in balance with need.

 

He will now toward a lonely sojourn

with hope might she find some peace

along the way, a soft reminder,

a memory, an embrace, a tear.

 

Will we always wish upon desire more,

he holds a soft chuckle, a stoic cry,

for in a single minute the vacancy

affords our capacity a dream, a despair.

 

Oh, he might wish until the next moon

a spiritual conveyance of this

a thoughtful love, sweet remind

the playful nature lost in serious tone.

 

He would might the next day be gone

for the only sunrise might be her eyes


photo found on Pinterest

~ finding my way, a personal journey

for Zelda

An Epic Poem He Wants

So he puts on the right music,

probably rock and roll,

his genre, his childhood,

it’s what he always thought

he might know,

when push comes to shove,

when life says it time to know

once again,

re-evaluate your love,

it is that sort of quiet mindset

the break of day begins,

and everything that matters,

seems rather senseless

until the words begin to flow.

 

Oh to be on chartered waters

where the epic nature of time

began to flow like the sea waves

we might only have imagined

from some land-locked port of call.

 

For it is inside the memory of time

we do make choice

we call out our inhibitions

when no one is looking

and suddenly our dance,

the steps we have long feared

become a sacred sort of prance

inside this silent makeup

of human condition

and emotional well being

caught in the eyes of a stranger

to appear more likely a trance.

 

Oh to find the words,

to finish this state of mind,

where it was in the beginning

is another day feeling

the pains and fruition of what it is

we choose

we want

we need

we .. love.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

When Autumn Calls

There is wisdom to the dying embers of summer,

the cold relents, our lives sheltered,

we haven’t the opportunity to bask in complete

naked truth,

instead, we clothe our lives around tenets of normalcy

preparing for the cold,

anticipating the old

until we can find renewal in the spring.

 

Yet for now we must acknowledge the subtle decay

of that which we love,

and thereby we count on the resilient nature

of our heart and soul,

that which will remain our hope and guidance

until the following sunrise …

because next days always speak more fondĀ  of the immediate.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

He Imagined Her

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It was on a Friday night,

she spoke to him

wondering

she said she waited there

just to know

to wonder

if maybe he ever,

or if he might now.

 

He wondered then,

in the quiet of a winter eve

could she hear him

feel him,

might she know

if in a silent beat

of some nostalgic moment,

would he

wait.

 

He chose to listen

to a song would bring him a tear

always a joyful cry,

he wanted her to know

the celebration of love

could only contain

the tenets of a cherished

mystique


~ 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

If I Could Hold You

I would not want to let you go,

feeling your soft reaction to fingertips

touching your cheek,

your eyes searching for reason,

and me,

my eyes watching you,

the sweet response of lips that would touch,

if only in my imagination,

I could,

perhaps I would then,

hold onto your passion forever.

 

I was driving home tonight,

and took an exit that reminded me

of you,

everything I do,

the places I go,

when I can,

I remember looking to my side,

seeing you there,

perhaps a hand on my shoulder,

the most sensual nature

of sweet love,

a reckoning of our reality.

 

If when I do think of you,

if I might,

would you be alright

if then we might imagine

somehow, someway, if life were sweet,

if I could hold you … forever.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~