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Love Poems by MeLoading...
Catchers in the Tide
Life happens inside me
As it does inside you
instead of pearl oysters
we are chasing together
the echoes
of startled silhouettes
evicted from memory.
Not all birds fly south
in winter
Not all men tiptoe
in the presence of God.
My fingertips breathe,
A soft stillness
marries the humility
of my prayers
as I kneel down
on the white silk
to succumb to your visions.
Let’s bide here,
I’ll tell you as much or as little
You are my south and my prayers
The spirited pathway
leading my footsteps
to a golden shield.
Life happens inside me
As it does inside you
instead of pearl oysters
we are chasing together
the echoes
of startled silhouettes
evicted from memory.
Not all birds fly south
in winter
Not all men tiptoe
in the presence of God.
My fingertips breathe,
A soft stillness
marries the humility
of my prayers
as I kneel down
on the white silk
to succumb to your visions.
Let’s bide here,
I’ll tell you as much or as little
You are my south and my prayers
The spirited pathway
leading my footsteps
to a golden shield.
Catchers in the Tide
Life happens inside me
As it does inside you
instead of pearl oysters
we are chasing together
the echoes
of startled silhouettes
evicted from memory.
Not all birds fly south
in winter
Not all men tiptoe
in the presence of God.
My fingertips breathe,
A soft stillness
marries the humility
of my prayers
as I kneel down
on the white silk
to succumb to your visions.
Let’s bide here,
I’ll tell you as much or as little
You are my south and my prayers
The spirited pathway
leading my footsteps
to a golden shield.
Life happens inside me
As it does inside you
instead of pearl oysters
we are chasing together
the echoes
of startled silhouettes
evicted from memory.
Not all birds fly south
in winter
Not all men tiptoe
in the presence of God.
My fingertips breathe,
A soft stillness
marries the humility
of my prayers
as I kneel down
on the white silk
to succumb to your visions.
Let’s bide here,
I’ll tell you as much or as little
You are my south and my prayers
The spirited pathway
leading my footsteps
to a golden shield.
Plenitude
Joy sneaks in
through the suave air
to breathe its splendors
and its infinities
while a deep musing
gingerly locks away
a trickster’s labyrinth
of ache and grieving
with clairvoyant dare.
An exuberance of grace,
of self-forgiveness
and warmth
is flipped out,
on a canvas
of perpetual maze
together with an abundance
which outweighs both
the triumph of small things
and earthly glory
of one's shortest hours.
Without a doubt,
you are and will be
but a mirror
reflecting silver linings.
Joy sneaks in
through the suave air
to breathe its splendors
and its infinities
while a deep musing
gingerly locks away
a trickster’s labyrinth
of ache and grieving
with clairvoyant dare.
An exuberance of grace,
of self-forgiveness
and warmth
is flipped out,
on a canvas
of perpetual maze
together with an abundance
which outweighs both
the triumph of small things
and earthly glory
of one's shortest hours.
Without a doubt,
you are and will be
but a mirror
reflecting silver linings.
Plenitude
Joy sneaks in
through the suave air
to breathe its splendors
and its infinities
while a deep musing
gingerly locks away
a trickster’s labyrinth
of ache and grieving
with clairvoyant dare.
An exuberance of grace,
of self-forgiveness
and warmth
is flipped out,
on a canvas
of perpetual maze
together with an abundance
which outweighs both
the triumph of small things
and earthly glory
of one's shortest hours.
Without a doubt,
you are and will be
but a mirror
reflecting silver linings.
Joy sneaks in
through the suave air
to breathe its splendors
and its infinities
while a deep musing
gingerly locks away
a trickster’s labyrinth
of ache and grieving
with clairvoyant dare.
An exuberance of grace,
of self-forgiveness
and warmth
is flipped out,
on a canvas
of perpetual maze
together with an abundance
which outweighs both
the triumph of small things
and earthly glory
of one's shortest hours.
Without a doubt,
you are and will be
but a mirror
reflecting silver linings.
Moon-Shaped Love
Sun or
moon wise,
praying her tears,
or smiling her bliss out
She’d be down on her knees,
curled fingers clenched in a fist
Ready to bathe her mind’s drafts
Into the loneliest dew-soaked dusk
then let the ardours of her own heart
soar high to whisper and ripple about
how he’d learned to paint her poetry
and carve marble, but failed to find
a single song in the world’s patter
to sing along with his own blood.
Then he sent summer words
and walked in his garden
to sign a new promise
with a rose thorn
so sharp and
warm yet
scarlet.
Sun or
moon wise,
praying her tears,
or smiling her bliss out
She’d be down on her knees,
curled fingers clenched in a fist
Ready to bathe her mind’s drafts
Into the loneliest dew-soaked dusk
then let the ardours of her own heart
soar high to whisper and ripple about
how he’d learned to paint her poetry
and carve marble, but failed to find
a single song in the world’s patter
to sing along with his own blood.
Then he sent summer words
and walked in his garden
to sign a new promise
with a rose thorn
so sharp and
warm yet
scarlet.