Magazine Posts

Listen, to a loves whisper,
can you hear the sound,
in the voices of your friends
or the laughter of children playing?
Listen!

Being lonesome, is not being lonely,
for lonely people are lacking friends.
Lonesome people miss their
surroundings or their friends
and loved ones.
Wishing to be alone, at moments,
is looked upon, by some, as
being anti social,
when, in fact, people have
different needs or if you will,
a different tolerance of others.
Don't be surprised, if I seek
to be alone, away from you.

When I grow up, I want to be,
all the good things you want of me,
like
considerate.

Sleep, sleep, the restful peace
of silence and darkness.

Warm winds push me away
from memories of the past,
as I escape, across the sea.
Sounds of slapping waves
as the ship brushes through
the iridescent froth,
of the sea, soothed the hurt
of my leaving you.

The days appear like serpentines,
sculpted, as if, from brass
as the nights, black curtain of darkness,
falls around us.
The moon's faint beams, of sadness,
begin to fill the voids,
except for shadows of darkness
staying the coming dawn.
Great rays of brightness, leaps from
the rising sun
and once more it is morning and
a new day has begun.

I know your name, better than mine.
I see it written on motel walls
or in the bottom of an empty coffee cup,
as I sit in a small diner, alone,
contemplating.

I have seen your name on billboards
or emblazoned on clouds by the
reflections from a neon sky.

In the morning, when I rise,
I see your name, in these
tired eyes, trapped within
the patchy mirror, reflecting
my morning image.

Not a day goes by,
when I don't think of you.
Not an hour passes ,
without my wanting you.
I'll love you forever,
forever and a day.
I will promise you never,
to go away,
from you.

Great God, up above,
will you please pay attention.
I was extra good today
and didn't even make
honorable mention.

Your whole life begins
each morning,
at the dawning of each,
beautiful day.
The future lies there,
before you
and it's waiting for you
to say,
that you enjoy life
and living,
in your own, warm and
loving way.

With my hand, laid gently
on your breast,
I draw the strength from
your body.
Your thoughts, become my thoughts,
your moods, my moods,
as we become one.
One being, coupled together,
through loves own passion.
A short lived, fleeting moment,
much too brief.
Loves ardor, now gone,
for the moment.

Soft is the shadow
under the tree.
Soft is the foam,
in from the sea.
Soft is the down,
from the breast of a dove.
Soft are the sounds of
the clouds up above.
Softest of all is
the sound of new love.