I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Posts tagged “elegance

Alone In The Quiet of an Afternoon


When the rains began to fall,

I wondered,

did she,

was she at all curious,

did she know

I would be right here,

waiting,

where it is I always want to be,

this place, one night,

the first time,

a kiss,

quiet afterward,

when her eyes opened

to see him standing there,

laying next to her,

cradling every aspect of whom she might be,

in the moment,

in the quiet of a

rainy

afternoon.


She Is His Elegance


behance

simple quiet
cobblestone grip
unseen is wonder
only steady gait
a will
to wander
slowly seeking
her

she is his elegance


Stand In Wonder


Margarita_Magoo

Margarita_Margoo


For they do, they will,

some might, some,

well,

it is what they will.

 

Yet, woman as seen,

spectacular

with natural elegance,

oh perhaps, a clever seduction.

 

This is me, in my moment,

not meant for your base

alignment of my purpose,

more simply meant to be …

 

It is that lovely part of the

human mystique,

I do so enjoy the linens,

allow me to respond.

 

A silent night,

and a movie star,

is born,

it is an old Hollywood script.

 

Yet, when we are all done,

the saddest tales on the

cutting room floor,

remember this is me.

 

For tonight, I’m a rising star,

in a sultry red dress,

a lovely LA steam draws

my skin tight silk fantasy.


I Do Stand


Oh I might falter,

though,

with time,

the experience of a spring sunrise,

I will, can, I believe

love is,

will be,

and howsoever gently

we might find an eventual

sweet space of a hand,

reaching out

to hold onto our greatest fear.

That will be a good day,

a place to stand, like today.


While You Were Sleeping


I took pause,

leaned into your figure,

wrapped my fingers around loose strands of your hair,

let them fall on my chest,

your legs intertwined with my own,

covered in a single sheet,

white,

draping our lives,

I took my hand and felt for the small of your back,

just above your buttocks,

I ran my fingertip up your spine,

until finding a place to lay my palm,

pressing my hand gently, and then with both hands

I now spread my fingertips,

so I could envelop your shoulders,

soft, naked, resting flesh,

safe in my hands,

I watched you,

sleep in peace,

I took pause.

 

I return here often

when I cannot have you

laying next to me,

only a memory,

the sweet breath of your gasp,

the easy rolling melody of your settling

into my own world,

it was you and me,

it was you,

and this was a me,

I had not known existed anymore,

yet now,

while I watched your body move in the linen,

when my fingertips aroused your recall,

it was there I knew,

this was a certain elegance,

that we had known,

we knew,

we found,

we began and we did rest,

and I would pause,

while a tear

would suddenly appear in the corner of my eye,

I was awake

to watch your beauty

your sleep,

a peace …

 

I could touch,

you.


The Pleasure of Knowing


When might I glance at a blue sky,

while waking my mind to another morning,

I can realize we are together.

 

Though the miles would separate,

we might imagine such is a romantic tale,

that become our reality.

 

In the waking hours of my day,

I would if possible give you my every way,

if it meant your peace today.

 

I do glance, I search, I wander

within the moment of my every step

in the hope she will appear.

 

It is the beauty of love allows,

the mind in its circle of sometime torment

suggests she is sweet elegance.

 

Oh to find the manner of peace,

to open my heart, to fill my soul with truth,

to answer your love with meaning

 

For perhaps it is life’s trial,

the trailing of the human condition,

always knows, we might love.


The Essence of Woman


In life lives a fantasy,

a gentle reminder of a soft journey,

one rampant with a passion,

driven by the essence,

the true nature of knowing,

her every curvaceous tone,

whether it be intellect

or the naked reality …

 

In imagining woman,

might the man remember

true beauty,

an eternal mystique

shall be her endearment,

the freedom she carries to be

just lovely in every aspect

of her being.

 

Woe that we do forget

in the throes of a neediness,

a loss of contentment

with recognizing peace,

instead tossing aside the value,

that originating seduction,

for a callous recall,

one that may cause confusion,

detract from any innocence,

to inherit an ugliness toward

proper beauty.

 

It is in that pause,

the reflection of man,

we can realize

there is truth inside the goddess

of our humanity,

that spiritual reckoning

suggests a karmic wave

of true innocence,

the essence of woman

be shared only in the eyes

of sacred love.