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 “writing

Solace


peace of mind rewind

there is a traveling soul

every one kind


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.


When Writing Is My Composure


Would I that I might reach out,

find some grasp, a hold,

perhaps a shoulder that within

sweet familiarity

would be my peace.

 

Yet in the quiet of some melody,

it is words I can only share,

and hope, and perhaps believe,

they do give reckoning,

a gentle peace of tender harmony.

 

For it is these alone times,

a soft chant, the keys of a piano solo,

a sweet tear might fall,

glistened eyes do sing song,

to wonder of the reality of my words.

 

When once while safe we did in the shadows,

our lips touch, a world beyond ourselves grow


This Yearn, This Beautiful Way



When once, we did reach,

only together in the quiet,

hearts pounding,

when once, did I cradle you

in my arms,

sensing a freedom that would

let me fall inside you

only to know you,

to feel a certain chaos

in my mind,

that

told me so,

reaction to allowing this

grace, this yearn, this search

to comfort your own confusion.

 

We did,

this our wander,

until now,

my eyes,

they well,

a quiet response

a journey, sojourn, travel

a place where finding

pause

asked in genteel terms,

and yet,

I play out the Victorian beauty

of such is our lives,

the constant …

 

I am in a quiet,

reflective,

my hope only

an offer of peace,

yet, wish an understanding,

to know my love,

eternal,

does yearn,

does wake to a loneliness

does want,

though in this moment,

I remember

you.


My Time Is My Own


A mantra with meaning,

a saying to suggest,

a memory,

quiet in its discretion, its wishful

mnemonic fortune.

Oh, to have the time to say the words,

to know the reaction, to see the eyes,

to feel the lips, to taste the passion,

to understand the mystique

is drawn inside our own set of fashion,

our world together,

it is in that quiet alley way,

where romance did lean against stucco walls,

inside a broken world,

where healing hands and gasps and fires

did maintain some semblance of peace

internalized by the conflict of our realities.

Oh to know the sweet spirit of love

in all its natural abandon

preserved by the symbolic nature

of heart and soul.

Oh to taste the fire of dewy eyes in winter’s landscape.


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.


Would I Wait Forever


A question it is not

when thoughts of her,

become a statement,

a glance of cheek to touch,

a smile,

a kiss forever drawn my gasp,

it is within the clever agony

of love’s respite,

I would certain

be lost forever

in the light her eyes do cast upon

my sheltered soul.

 

Just an evening

I would cast a shadow upon her knee,

with my roaming hand,

a touch, a soft circular reminder,

of only beauty in the persona

of her smile

drawing me near,

telling me again,

how once,

my skin against her own

did find simple fire,

an energy

that now today,

in my every day,

I find strength

in sweet memory.

 

Oh to know there

is a time,

an adventure

when together

would her heart

offer me shelter

in a storm of flurry,

the passionate embrace

does suggest a time

when lips might caress,

hearts touch,

souls intertwine,

and in her eyes,

would I find my sea.