long-distilled love
again, to Donna
we’re fifteen hundred miles apart/but i can feel your beating heart/and i can hear your honeyed voice/and thrill as both of us rejoice
the years with change and machination/have yielded nectar’s distillation/more tasty than the finest wine/two souls in intertwining vine
we’ll turn our back on stressful censure/continue on this sweet adventure/and loving kiss may well presage/a romance free of care and age
there was a throbbing in his lower neck
there was a throbbing in her yearning heart
and so they got together/and ran in rainy weather/and shackled passion in a horse-drawn cart
..
her parents were aghast agape appalled
his parents had long fled this mortal coil
and so they fled the scene/and lived aloft serene/and made ends meet with kisses books and toil
..
we leave them near his deathbed decades hence
their daughter and their grandkids leave as asked
he says what gracious robbery/you gave with ardent throbbery/i throb with you my truest love u n m a s k d
In the commissary where I work, one priority is Speed. The restaurants want their prepared food, and they want it pronto. They will take Pretty Fast over Pretty every time.
This page is like that. I just had to get it done, and polishing it up would have cost me hours. Other pages will demand finesse; this one does not.
If Need Be
In a tough entangling web
It’s a time when your hopes ebb
Fear and hopelessness presage
Finding rescue–Draw that page
..
This Time
Take a number mon petit
Halve it with your bread and ghi
Infinitely numbers teem
Setting pace and mood and theme
..
Lean On Me
Let’s help each other grow and bloom
Engaging in opposing doom
And new horizons come to be
No nastiness that we can see
..
In the word balloons:
He: We NEED this…
She: …and it is Nice.
She: Tea & Ghi time!
He: …the Tripod…
She: …is mightier than the Stick.
He: Now let’s go…
She: .walking uphill…
They: …into the glorious sunset.
Sun: Crazy kids!
Here is a syrupy, sappy, cartoony glimpse at romantic love. Cupid fires a barrage of love-arrows at a couple who is already kissing. Cupid gets undeserved bragging rights because the love was already there. What a devious creep Cupid can be!
true LOVE real
there’s a sleevéd heart to wear
romance comes for two to share
ultra-laved in buttered shea
eh, laissez entrer le Soleil
I don’t know what Shea Butter is, but it must be good stuff, judging from all the advertising, so I laved. Mostly I needed to rhyme a word ending with A and a word ending in L.
The last line roughly translates from the French as “What the Hell, let the sunshine in.” Cheers!
Three Score and Ten and Six she has in years
Yet childlike, girlish, age-defiant young.
Through travel, trouble, tragedy she steers
Yet from a well her merry laughter’s sprung.
.
Last century we strolled a bookstore’s aisles.
She managed; I received. But then a gap
Would intervene, of choices, time and miles;
She moved away; I raised a child; oh snap!
.
But strike a match and kindle up some hope
For more Adventure. Red-wine glasses clink
And conversation comes in gushing streams.
I learn it’s not enough to merely cope
When All That, Bag of Chips, AND Kitchen Sink
Include the lovely Woman of my Dreams!
.
once upon a time we romeos and juliets were fuzzy-headed puppies as far as love was concerned
giddy and whizzing through the high-voltage fun ride of young lust
making it up as we went along
clumsily knocking things over or up
weeping and dusting ourselves off
and growing and learning as decades pass
and we necessarily change
because
our seasoned romeo does not suit a galadrielized juliet
and we have largely shed many of the illusions that drove our pubescent chariots
.
still the feelings forged in adolescence linger
even over subsequent decades
how nice it still and always is to kiss
how nice to love
and how astonishing it is to fall into the deepness of a lover’s eyes
and how blossomous it is to be stupefied by the exchange of adorations
and to rediscover what it is to be fibrously alive
.
elderly lovers seem creepy or cute to many
but callow romeos and jejune juliets have no clue what delicate layers
and fathomless depths
may be found
if the search for true love is made lifelong
and the willingness to love wholeheartedly persists
You read about someone you might like
You walk by someone who is a fair fit for what you read about someone you might like
You hear the voice of that someone and you like it
You like what the voice says
You find a way to share space and time with that someone, possibly in a group setting
You start daydreaming about what might happen
You present a better version of yourself in hopes the someone notices
You start accumulating nice moments involving your someone
You seem to notice a mutual attraction
You definitely notice a mutual attraction, unless your mind is playing tricks
Your heart leaps when one or the other of you throws caution to the winds and the two of you arrange to be together
.
(Like the visible light spectrum, Love Spectrum #9 is but a sliver of the full spectral range. The creation of Love Spectrum #10 is left as an exercise, or an overture, for the reader.)
(The author hopes a certain someone is reading this.)
At the gestation station
Leaning on a mansion’s stanchion
Musing on divinity’s infinity
I whispered to my two-weeks-late mate
That our child’s head had crowned
And she unfrowned.
i was a lump of clay
i am a flightless bird
i will be on display
now isn’t that absurd
.
to get the rapt attention of
supporters of the arts?
a pedestal’s detention, love,
confines and wilts and smarts.
.
the trouble is when i was made
my wright made me a soul
and now i’m frozen, senseless, stayed…
but Love
may make
me whole…
falling in love is a change of focus/Hocus pocus/specific locus/fascination and blind acceptance/sharing a crazy dream
disillusionment is an outcome/time tide rhyme come/bright to humdrum/wind the mainspring and breathe and ponder/what will be coming next
One with Clay, Image and Text 