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 “romance

Stop, Just Listen


What about the shadow,

when time might allow,

is there,

can we,

while whenever I do imagine,

her spirit on a starlit night,

I still cannot,

I won’t ever know,

if …

well I haven’t been told

just how

I might feel

when I glance inside her eyes,

one lonely night

ago.


Watching The Rains Speak


I listened,

the drops upon my conscious soul

spoke to a memory,

a time when we would know

the forever could always remain.

In the rains,

I could recall,

when cradled in her arms, my lips touching sweet skin,

soft her gasp,

a yearn

trace

hers were mine,

our fingertips

intertwine,

… and the rains they fell in line.

 

I remember knowing this was

where I belonged,

only wishing she did feel the same.

 

The rains became our silence.


I Woke In Retrospect


rest

photo – pinterest


She’s resting now,

she told me so,

and I will quiet

imagine her soft breath

in the sweet respect of afternoon.

 

I wake in mornings,

wishing for just that,

to have her near me,

to wake to her slumber,

to quiet watch her even gasps.

 

I woke in retrospect

this morning wanting

as does my passion every

waking moment,

wish to know, to have, to hold

 

her love in my arms …


Wanting Peace


My heart aches

when moments relied upon

become confusion,

when the skies gray

no longer inspires my eyes,

I’m lost in a horizon,

a search

waiting for the tears

to come cleanse the walls

of my secretive integrity.


Stepping Inside


cityscape

There was a shelter nearby,

we sought it with smiles,

a little piece of hidden world,

we created,

we made it our own,

I leaned against an aging picket board fence,

still sturdy and willing,

the stucco exterior of the vacant home nearby,

we would later laugh and say to each other,

if only we might live

right here.

 

I kissed her in the sweet moonlight of a winter breeze,

hidden in our makeshift reality,

we held each close,

the intensity of our passion so longed for,

so forgotten by no one beyond ourselves.

 

There was laughter in our eyes that night,

sweet magic to taste the bloom of wanton lips,

we wanted, indeed,

we wished for more yet recognized

the night sky held other’s eyes,

those would be our albatross,

a sweet touch of skin upon each desire,

and a good-bye,

the one we had never quite imagined,

in our own independent way.

 

Stepping nearby,

stepping inside,

stepping away

sweet nigh …


Where The Hand Might Open Eyes


It is that yearning,

that when alone wish to be

a reckoning of recreating

a moment.

 

When I might hold your lips close to mine,

my hand falls down your waist,

a slide I know you might feel every glance,

I am hopeful of course,

watching your eyes,

as my fingertips land

just below, only behind, my palm

rests upon your waist,

and my touch is there,

soft, inviting, wanting some motion.

 

I would then as we do,

pull you against me,

standing in the middle of the world,

our own quiet secret,

you might, you do, I see it in your eyes,

know I am there,

wishing wanting, hoping,

imagining how far we might be

in the quiet of our own privacy.

 

Let the world watch,

our minds in laughter,

the love, the passion, the need,

to search, explore, find a wanting,

we both might gasp in the moment,

as together our bodies

will intermingle

for as long as time may

forever allow.


Quiet Recall


In the silence of a quiet recall,

would I close my eyes

know her smile, her gasp,

the lean of weight upon on foot,

we see elegance in her every glance.

Would I that she were more

than now a dream,

less imagination and far likely

to shelter my scream

when found abandoned

inside the reality of our lives.

It is then when

I gesture toward a reality,

to always wish her presence

be my internal guide.