The Romance of a Letter


That sense of wonder

has she, did it reach,

will there be another.


Oh to honor the parchment

of love in its antiquity

the eyes we well in a lament.


I could wanting my pen

speak in clear word

how is true my love then.


In some forever rhythm

the ink is laid

and the imagined him


whose blood and soul do

hold favor to her smile,

eyes that might find true.


Oh to find the true blessing

in words of a scrawl,

forever binding, always living.


When last I spoke I wrote

in a flash pages fill

with all my love so remote


yet here swoon in the quiet of a silent

peace fashioned a style not so ancient.

picture – pinterest


Being told of loss

words become secondary

the heart May scream


For a dream

must contain

love, its mystique


eyes open in shelter

yet outside a wild

fury of natural passion


will wait, does wait, can wait

good morning tearful eyes.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

for Zelda

Waking With Purposeful Shades

ED7977C5-FF18-44BE-A5BB-B92A19E732BB.jpegI don’t wish to see the light

only the shadow

of my quiet reality

me and my animal now

her eyes

just love

no agenda drawn

a quiet wonder of some seeming


not feigned

no imagination

just silent breathing


perhaps there is wonder

yet she will

always know

always be

always … awaiting me

always she may trust my presence

always here.

Rainy Days

A compelling desire

to embrace the mystique of a rainy day.


watching the rains

watching the rains


We have memoirs in our mind,

the searing spiral of time

when if we stop for a moment

feel nature’s mist on our skin

brings us to a soft

sweet shower

when we might know again

there is truth

inside the beauty of love.


watching the rains

watching the rains


Watching droplets glance pavement

imagining somber days while

the windows transform to a quiet refuge

wishing her arms would be in my own

the two of us in discreet embrace


watching the rains

watching the rains


there is a certain beauty in the cause of love

when lost in ourselves

allowing time to no longer matter

except this moment,

when eyes do search, feelings surge

toward some urgency

our natural desires do drive our passions


watching the rains

watching the rains


watching the rains in a surreal romance

~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

– for Zelda

When Love Consumes

We forget where it is we begin,

we can be traveling down the road,

a familiar song,

that melody I listened to when I was 17

and all I needed was a good lyric

to believe the compassion

I might be feeling in the moment.


I could often times feel so in love with

the idea

of being in love,

knowing I would give my heart to her,

or was it simply I wanted that touch,

that feeling of knowing

I was perhaps the one being loved.


I find it funny now when I think about

all the energy I spent

trying to find her,

and never really believing I would,

until over time,

I discovered there was nothing in between …

either I was completely lost in her eyes,

or this was simply a fantasy.


The former seemed safe, I could go forward

knowing again that someone, this one,

she did love me,

she told me so on so many occasions

and I believed her

because I did love her too.

I don’t think I could have let myself be convinced

if I did not give myself completely to her.


Yet somewhere down the road, I became consumed

and I forgot to lend her a hand to come along in my eyes.

~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

– for Zelda