He held her close…

He held her close and she lay her head on his chest. The silence competing with the tension, till the latter could no longer bear it. Counting three breaths, she mouthed, “Are you sure we’re not lost in ourselves?”

He held her close and she cuddled up to him, like a koala baby and its mother. In that moment, nothing could shift attention from a bond, formed over distance, over texts, over a forged, genuine love. A bond, now released to temperaments and the intricacies of the human connection

He held her close and they experienced a feeling so familiar, previously emanating in waves, now static. This was home, their home. This love had traveled and finally arrived at its final destination. Sunflowers had always been her favourite. Today in full fictitious bloom, they gave their approval. Joy has cometh

Love A Poet

My heart, sought after,

But take my words

For by them only

Shall you know my soul.

 

Love timeless, one I shall find

I pray it will be inspiring

Like a new day, as the sun rises

Dew laden leaves, as the flowers wake.

 

One day, the joy of writing

May well be superceded by your presence

Your voice, your whispers,

Poetry and ballads.

 

Take my words

And my heart you shall know

As I look forward to it all

A mere poet discovering love.

 

 

 

 

THE FOREIGNER

–3/5–
george-marks-woman-wearing-dress-looking-in-mirror

She speaks, I listen and stare in wonder,

Poised, a whim of the moment,

Why can’t I see that this is me?

She is a voluptuous figure, curves back then mistaken to be extra pounds,

Beautiful and alluring, très étonnante, c’est moi,

The day has arrived, a whole new woman,

A free spirit, ready to delve in new beginnings,

The sad memories of the past have been shattered to pieces,

Hope for the future, is in her that I see and admire,

She has seen the best in me, helping me to my feet

But, why can’t I see that she is I?

She watches her muse, and I listen to my teacher

She claps and out of exhilaration screams at me, she is proud.

The lonesome nights will be no more, gloomy mornings have been replaced

It’s sheer bliss, he that couldn’t see the good in me, she has seen

She is I, C’est moi,

Ponder I may, but I know better, now that she is here

I’ve been cradled for long; I woke up a new woman

I kick my heels off,

Sway my body side to side,

Hugging my curtains, serenading my wall paintings,

There’s desperation to go on,

*THUMP*!

Falling down to the carpet, I can’t help but laugh at myself.

Boy oh boy, what now!