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 “summer

Soft is a Sweet Serenade

When I was a child I remember,

there was a memory of kindness,

a sort of rite of passage,

whereby she left me with a smile.


I remember wishful then,

the forever summer nights,

she laughed outloud

and we danced as forever might.


There is a quiet reality in love,

the dawning of an understanding,

that eternally above

all other conclusions must remain.


I remember the soft dawn of summer,

a child in a constant stir,

finding my reality,

I spoke of her until the autumn.


I would today respond to a soft

reckoning of a spiritual gain,

when life becomes the real,

sort of intellectual game.


I recall tender the night sky,

when in the cold autumn breeze,

our gasps created pictures,

we lived inside our dreams.

Imagine Rain

Do you remember that time,

walking in alleys,

staying close, looking for eaves,

the water teasing our eyes,

like sweet rhythm

in a tapestry of sensuality,

garments gradual gathering

in the damp nature

of a beautiful summer rain.


We would walk around water

summer in a showery afternoon,

an already wet,

delight caress me delicious

stroll within my arms, feeling peace,

when our soaked disposition,


in rain swept eyes, lips damp,

sweet flush cheeks,

my hands can land anywhere now,

in the wet,

beauty of your abandon.


Remember when we would walk for hours,

and then the shelter,

strip off our wet garments to each other’s eyes,

dry cotton, still our arousal is in the

quiet wonder of knowing

the depth of our love goes well beyond

a rainy afternoon.


Oh, the soup, warm, waiting, hungry …


When Summer Remains


It is that feeling of never wanting to let go,

the clean, crisp, cacophony of morning song,

they’re in their shelters, the wood in throng,

we all witness the beauty that time forego.


Feel the gentle heat of a sunlight mastery

Quiet we do recognize our vulnerable

task to Nature’s plan, we then are able

To know this simple summertime legacy.


A passing season, a time when life alive

teaches our body to respect an energy

takes our lives beyond simple normalcy,

a vision, fantasy, an opportunity to thrive.


In her arms that one cool summer day,

was my heart in hers to forever stay.

Gentle Breeze Will Stay

FullSizeRender 13

When first I sat down in my morning wonder,

I think about place, and reason why,

glance to a man-made water flow in blue sky,

a forest green fills the world far beyond eye.


It is immediate always she can become my

central focus on a beautiful morning in July.

I can easily recall a time I might cry,

yet for now, sweet muse, does mind wander.


I took a picture as a way to describe this

silent peace, music sheltering the natural wave

of city traffic blends a natural green vision,

of Nature’s wonder in yet man-made design.


His search a quiet state of mind, savor the breeze

For in glance I realize why in sky I cry with ease.

Cricket Song

I listened,

a pitch black backdrop,

eased onto my couch, with window slats

open to the night air.

I listened as summer whispered,

we are giving you a good morning,

the changing season,

warm air shifts toward a gradual cooling,

we come to sing,

to welcome the next phase.


I realize suddenly in my world all good things must …

lovely mornings, lush gardens in the wood, long afternoons,

all the memories of love,

I will recall her eyes, her smile, her love,

they are always the constant in my

self assuring mind.

Her beauty does exist, sings melody in my heart,

much like the crickets song,

suggesting we are always nearby,

to give a soft and sweet routine

toward Nature’s wondrous plan.


I wonder about our plan,

and then I step back,

take your time I said to myself,

the autumn is more upon me than I would ever imagine,

listen to the breeze inside the song.

Here As I Am


I do ponder the many faces,

oh so many hours of time,

lost on the need to recognize,

a desire to know more,

and yet,

for the moment,

just this,

these eyes, maybe a smile,

certainly the extent of a hot summer day,

coffee, laptop and a little music,

and am I a part of today’s society?


Have I met the standard of approval,

a person may suggest to themselves in private,

while whisking away their latte,

perhaps a chi tea, or the coffee of the day.


We’re all here

imagining only that which we are,

in the manner of a moment capable

of grasping, while all around us,

the life of others seems to replicate the same.


At least the coffee is fresh,

beyond the ideals turned stale.

We might just sit here every day,

same chair, same glance through windows,

perhaps never to be noticed again,

at least so the mind seems to say.

Summer’s Wane

i’m not ready, cried,

not at all as satisfied,

Fantasy decide