The things she recalled
His eyes, kind smile, gentle touch,
But never his voice
With scant reminder
She remembered his cologne
Subtle sandalwood
She’d give anything
To hear him speak one more time
Though words might wound her
Tag: lovers
A Love Lost
Who can bear the pain?
Lovers long cast asunder
Too many years past.
Days spent pretending
All is well; He’s quite insane
Hedges go untrimmed
Careful how you speak
Her name still goes unmentioned
His only lost love
Inside on a Rainy Day
Is there anything more wonderful than a rainy Sunday morning? Plip plopping drops sluicing down the roof,
Streaking across the window panes in a hurry to puddle up with their brothers and sisters on the driveway.
Dreamers lulled back to sleep by age old rhythms, the roll of thunder, the silence in between, waking to the smell of
Coffee an hour gone by in a blink. Cats snuggled under the covers. One detests the storm; the other relishes
Being present for this unexpected treat of extra time spent pleasantly cuddled on a perfect rainy Sunday.
Perfect
Some things don’t need fixing
they’re fine just the way they are,
like mornings in the mountains
And evenings by the fire.
We don’t get perfect lives,
or even perfect days,
but moments of perfection
to savor along the way.
The trick is to recognize
these moments when they come:
a baby’s smile, a lover’s touch,
and acknowledge their existence.
To chase perfection is to lose it,
hold on too tightly and it’s gone
just smile to yourself in acceptance
and tuck the memory away in your heart.
My Heart
When you call my name
my lonely heart holds its breath
afraid of loving.
So whisper the words
tell me you need me always
but don’t say my name.
for names hold power
as every lover knows
a twist in the gut.
Peace, people!
Benches
All along the wooden pier,
benches sit immobile,
beckoning visitors to rest.
Words etched on brass plates
for all to see:
“In Loving Memory of My Parents”
“For My Dearest Aunt Laura”
“In Memory of a Great Fisherman”
One imagines the benches might
mark the places at which each
memorialized person spent time
casting hooked lines
into the gulf’s waters
while drinking cold Budweiser
to better pass the time
between sunrise and sunset.
Now, lovers claim the benches
wrapped in embraces, scarcely
noticing the memorial plaques
on the creaky, weathered slats.
Fishing for affection
in the early evening hours
catching no fish,
but not caring.
Time Does Not Care
The Kiss by David Walker
I’ll pose to you two
Questions posed to me
Does love remember?
Does time have meaning?
If he said today I’ll love you forever
Would that mean anything?
Would he remember after
We tangled over jealousy
And hurt feelings?
Would love conquer all?
Would the time we spent
Loving mean anything or
Would it be wasted?
I don’t think I could bear that,
That what we’ve had
Becomes meaningless.
Better not to have loved
At all
In spite of what the
Poets say.
Praying for Eyebrowz 