keeping her heart a secret

... only wasted a key...

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excerpt from L. Book by me.

photo here

eight metaphors

Eight Metaphors

If I did not (so often) think of you

I have grown too weary of that phrase

For what a boredom, when wondering who

Could substitute your spring lit gaze

And why should one devise a plan

To whisk away my easy pleasure

Though most say I’ve excessive dreams

Who rules so right to take the measure?

I stand alone upon a bridge

They often see me and think dismayed

But oh as they should pass me by

I breathe relief and sigh unscathed

And though your distance is persisting

Eight kindled metaphors press my night

To once again believe your whispers

Shall someday be my breathless sight  

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picture from weheartit.com

poem copyrighted by me

again

  Again

Has there ever been a moment
When you were amongst a crowd
And you imagined my face
In someone’s place
Just to love me once again

Does the rain ever remind you
Of how I wept
The night I saw you
And you were with her
You know I felt a bit deranged
Like a little girl
Losing her way
I ran to find solace in the misty air
And prayed such a foreign prayer
For you to just love me
Once again

And when you moved on
It seemed so absurd
I could hear our ideas
As you shared them with her
I wondered so many times
If you ever kissed her tight
Or touched her hair
And then with all your want
Believed I was there
To heal the quest
Of tasting me
For insanity, sane
And loving me
Once again

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picture here

poem from my collection kissing paper

beyond

Beyond

There are feathers as

Light as us

Beyond the somewhere in

This soul of life

They turn inside a sun crowned field

And flowers bend in sleepy joy

The colors of our hearts will strand an

Infinite aisle

- Sentimental, for gazing. 

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poem copyrighted by me

photo unknown source, please tell me if you know. :)

window.

Window.

There is an open window in my heart

It chills me to the bone

In the middle of these soundless nights

I hear you, coming home

Inside the shadow of a tree

I cry, our days, all gone

Its stretching, rustling, moving slow

What heart should wait this long?

Am I the girl within the words

That used to make me flee

Are you the man upon the stretch

- A bottle set, to sea.

Oh love, profess it, either way

Just make it clear to me. 

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picture here

poem copyrighted by me