the rush and press of kind strangers fill the hours with questions, and practiced replies. getting to know the world in which you live and all its inhabitants is a pleasure i would not let pass me by — 4/4/10 – 135
the warmth of your touch is a thrill to set my heart beating the feel of your fingertips is a world to encapsulate my hopes and dreams — 4/1/10 – 132 #poetry #love
how do i resolve the creeping tension, the knot of pain, the sweet agony residing in my heart? i can feel its emotion welling in my throat the fear and hope and beginning throes of love — 3/20/10 – 117
starlight, smile bright the girl i love is mine tonight i wish i may, i wish i might have her to hold til morning light — 3/6/10 – 102
i took a star from heaven i plucked it from it’s celestial field and carried it in my pocket from land to foreign land til i found a shining angel worthy of its gleaming light then i took her to my home and at my hearth she shone and wandered…
i would spirit away the hours and spend my time with nary a thought to cost or consequence. we would speak of common things and i would not trade it for all the uncommon the world would offer. — 3/3/10 – 99 #ruth
your voice warms me with its lingering joy like a warm wine or heady potion and it leaves me happier than i was the day before we met — 2/28/10 – 96 #ruth
bittersweet the long goodbye the languid fare thee well hold on tight to fading love and let its beauty swell till love is lost and gone forever from your hearts empty shell — 2/17/10 – 85
your gaiety is a balm to a weary soul your laughter a sweet surcease to the turmoil made strong by heartbreak and care unrequited, unfulfilled until you bloomed in my life — 1/29/10 – 65
whither goest thou little bird? for whom dost thou sing? what love hast compelled thee this melody to bring? art thou sent by some lover his beloved to woo? by thy sweet serenade his desire to pursue? i pray this is so, little bird, it puts hope in my heart…
go my brother, where the wind blows to dance on the prairie steppes and feel the wind whip across the frosted tundra see my brother, the jungle steam rise through the terraced trees and watch the desert sand dance across the dulcet dunes feel my brother, the soft touch of…
i still miss you. memories held tightly are a bit of a surprise. i’m glad in a way, the pain forms an impression like the hollow of a mold. the memory is better than the nothing i would feel had we never met. — 1/5/10 – 36 #favorite
you were my rest and i ached to rest weary shoulders, and a deep deep breath. i’d think of you, and i’d see flowers, calico, and my fondest dreams. we were so close to perfect, but now you’re gone, and i find myself missing you — 12/13/09 – 10 #favorite
I’ve been reading Christopher Morley’s The Haunted Bookshop, a delightful book full of great little observations written in that style so prevalent during the 40’s. I’ve been writing down a bunch of passages that caught my eye, but on the train this morning I ran into one that I had…
Thus falls the evening dust To sparkle in the starlight Enchantment fills the very air Bound up in every dendrite Excitement racing through my flesh An arcane type of passion Deep within my soul is felt In mystifying fashion Abundant strands like silken thread Reflect the ghostly gloaming And fall…
I saw the beaded pearl form On her melancholy face The drawn lines and trembling lip Poised with aching grace For a moment drawn with breath She held her shaky pose Emotion welling in her breast Filled with grief and sorrows I felt a heady longing To wipe away her…
Sounds of laughter fill the air And I know her tender care Are precious to the ones who know The special girl to whom I owe This blessed eventide
Who is that friend I seek at night With long blond hair and eyes so bright With whom I wish to chase this hour Till sunshine lay upon the flower By the window sil