Thinking of how many times I’ve heard them
Those words, they appear in me now and again
Whether you’re here or some where
‘I love you,’ rings in my head
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Category Archives: poetry
You were in love with me yesterday
“What have you done to me”
I still remember those words
“I can’t get you out of my head”
You were so in love — with me
That you wanted me like I wanted you
Was a feeling of heaven in my world
That’s someone else’s heaven now
You were in love with me yesterday
Grateful — November 2017
When you see another rise
Maybe you played a part
Even with a cheer or a prayer
Or maybe with nothing to count
You rejoice and are glad
Glad for the good that has come out
Grateful for the success of another
You formed happiness in me
Sharing the joy in you
Gratitude grew inside
Stirred by the news
I am grateful
Happy
Joyful
Against our Sense
Progressing towards a shifting target
It looked like we were walking backwards
Things receding as we approached
The hill was within reach
A reach that simply extended
Like Sisyphean
Until we had come close enough to look so that we could see
All the while making progress against our sense.
Standing Tested
Standing tested
Stretched
Straightened
Standing tall
Standing tested
Before We Ever Met
I saw you standing there
Standing at the edge of the dance floor
A lovely top
Right hand on your waist
The other hugging it
Your frame
The look on your face
It held my soul
You were someone to know
Before we ever met
You gave off this fragrance
One that drew me in
Like a siren, but to life
I loved you before the beginning
Before we ever met
So natural to like you
Somehow I felt your essence
That day I saw a light
It was strong and beautiful
Powerful truly
You shined through and into
You gave me something
Without my asking
Would you dance with me
I had wanted to meet you
Before we ever met
We smiled together
Laughed together
Lost in talk, time inconsequential
Your thoughts mattered, they matter
To share your heart with mine
I would that we were that way
Before we ever met
The Fine Art of Poetry
Poetry is fine art;
It is made up of lines;
Lines that draw pictures in our souls;
Pictures of fine art;
Art that we appreciate.
Swept off her feet
So he swept her off her feet
And she gave her soul
What did he really do
It was she that lept
So he swept her off her feet
And she got possessed
What did he really do
It was she that let
So he swept her off her feet
And she fell in love
What did he really do
It was she that fell
