In Other Words


In other words…

We have traveled many roads together
a roadmap of our design tracing earth’s curves
as I trace hers with my touch
along the way picking up parcels of life…
reminders of where we have been, things we have done
and as I reflect
I recall mountains climbed and colors seen
our life taking on the wondrous landscape

With every touch she brings me further back to life
and like the great oak I find
my love for her anchors more deeply…
we are one…
time apart passes like cold molasses through an hour glass as
anticipation grows for our reunion
rituals we have made
sharing ourselves and our time
port shared mouth to mouth, sleeping skin to skin…
she is now a part of me
her voice, her presence, her touch
my salvation
as thoughts of her turn to smiles
and I realize my dreams are a reflection of my life
a life made better.

My cup of life always full
warmth, happiness, comfort, pleasure, love
my life now complete
a long road traveled with many stops along the way
we have walked many miles together
and when we can walk no more
we will sit, and marvel at all we have done…
the autumn of our lives
rich with color.

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Wondering


I wake to see
a peaceful face
surrounded by comforters
in a heavy sleep
and I am happy.

Minutes pass
and I am still watching;
and like the morning sunrise
her peacefulness spreads to me
and brings me warmth.

As if a master’s painting
I cannot look away
and smile as I take in
the beauty of her face…
a masterpiece.

She wakes
and this picture fills with life.
I relish in the thought
that I will be with her this day;
an angel watches over me.

As the day draws to a close
remembering all we have done
I smile again,
and think, what a lucky man
who this woman would have.

The Things We Do


Actions always speak louder than words
all leaving messages
from the flagrant to the finite
from the rough to the gentle
careful we must be when
speaking with our actions.

There is a time when our actions
are thought out and deliberate
leaving little room for misunderstanding…
a show of feelings and emotions.

Searching…
to find those electrodes
setting of uncontrollable pulses
leaving nothing to chance
with intent to please our partners
a show of love and closeness…

The things we do.

The Box


Like a prized possession
I kept it in a shoebox
away in a corner
hidden out of sight…
but without checking
how could I know
that like a fine brandy
it would grow richer with time.

Remembering her
I dug it out
handling it so carefully
blowing off the dust
wondering what I might find inside.
A quick peek
to satisfy my curiosity…
now I am blind.

Like a huge explosion
white light saturates my eyes,
my mind vibrates from concussion,
deaf, I cannot hear
making clear thought impossible
yet I press on
in a callous and thoughtless way.

What damage have I done…

Sight, sound, and thought
slowly return.
I see and understand
what I could not before
and tremble at the thought
that all might be lost.

My thoughts
like a broken record play;
what damage have I done…
what damage have I done…
what damage have I done…

A Bad Mix


I stir the pot of relationship
at a slow speed at first
not wanting to cause further damage
and notice
when I stop
I can still see the layers
that keep separated
the parts of the whole.

And I realize
there is more to blending
then gently stirring things up.

Not understanding fully
the chemistry of relationships
I apply the mixer at a higher speed
wanting to bring things together
into a silky smooth batter, and find
the stirring only conceals the problems
by hiding them in the whole
spoiling the untainted.

Waiting for Winter


Winter gone a few months
already I look forward to its return
those snowy months marked
with cold days and freezing nights
hotter than summer sun

A comforter and flannel sheets
insulation from the cold
as we wrap ourselves together
arms and legs intertwined
bodies against each other

Winter…
so much heat…
hotter than summer sun

What’s Better than Morning Coffee…


Faint recollections…
wisps of smoke almost gone
evidence of an act
barely enough to draw a memory
each faded memory the same.

Early morning affection…
a loving act as she
brushes her lips against mine
and tells me she loves me
before she slips away into my sleep induced fog.

My last hour of sleep
filled with extra warmth
as a sweetness lingers on my lips
and her words fill the catacombs
of my mind.