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YOURS TO KEEP
After the moment,
When you've recovered your breath,
After I've gently,
Removed the fine beads of sweat,
After all movement,
Has long since ceased,
While we lay with each other,
Feeling love and at peace,
After our needs,
Have been eloquently addressed,
After your soul,
Has come forth and confessed,
After the echoes,
Have died in the room,
While we lay with each other,
And normal life has resumed,
After the passion,
And the heat of ecstasy,
After fulfillment,
And you lay there next to me,
After I've kissed,
Every part of your face,
While I reflect upon the beauty,
Of the love that we make,
After resting your head,
On my comforting shoulder,
While we lie with each other,
And that moment is over,
After my journey,
To the center of your soul,
After we've added,
Another memory to behold,
After I've felt,
The love and strength in your arms,
After I've succumbed,
To the wealth of your charm,
After we've risen,
And met in midair,
While we lay with each other,
With my lips in your hair,
After you've given,
The kind of love I adore,
As I admire your body,
And the soul I've explored,
After your cries,
Have given way to silence,
While you lie in my arms,
And my thoughts are so private,
After we've joined,
And had a meeting of minds,
After consciously allowing,
Our physical beings to combine,
After we've melded,
And climaxed as one,
After the anguish,
When active lovemaking's done,
After fulfillment,
While I watch you sleep,
You will still have my love,
Because it's yours to keep. |
A PART OF YOU
I’m sure that you feel me,
When I think of you,
Every time that you breathe,
I’m in there, too,
I’m the blood that pulses,
Through your veins,
I’m the thought that eases,
Your minor pain,
I’m the cooling wind,
I’m the warming sun,
That pleasant dream,
I was in that one,
I’m the noiseless evening,
That makes you feel secure,
I’m the determining factor,
When you just aren’t sure,
That’s me you see,
In everything you do,
And rightfully so,
Cause I’m a part of you.
POETRY IN MOTION
Sometimes I look at the page,
And admire the symmetry of the lines,
I envy the freedom of the unblemished page,
Because it has the ability to become something new,
The page can capture the thoughts that my mind can’t hold,
And the page even has the power to encourage my soul to open,
And pour forth feelings from the depths of my consciousness,
And as those feelings travel from my mind,
To my arm, to my hand, to the pen, and onto the page,
My eyes return the former feelings to me in the form of words,
And the words that were once feelings,
Have now become the truth,
They’ve been captured by the page,
And imprisoned between the lines,
And through the blue bars,
They stare back at me,
And for one fleeting moment,
I wonder if they are staring through the bars at me,
Or am I staring between the bars at them,
And I wonder what kind of world it is,
That holds the truth,
Which is in my words,
On one side of the bars on the page,
And my feelings,
Which are in my mind,
On the other side,
And I wonder how it is,
That any writing utensil I find,
Can become the conduit,
Between my feelings,
Which are in my mind,
And the truth,
Which is in my words,
And I wonder if the page envies my mind,
Which holds my feelings,
As much as my mind envies the page,
Which holds the truth,
And I wonder if there is a point,
At which the distinction blurs,
And truth becomes apparent in my mind,
And my feelings are left on the page,
And I wonder if the never ending journey from my mind,
To the page, to my eyes, to my mind, and back to the page,
Would qualify as Poetry in Motion. |
