Magazine Posts

Crawl up on my shoulder,
little one,
nestle up, close, behind my ear.
Whisper gently, all your secrets,
tell me the wonders, I want to hear.
Make this place your refuge,
stay close to me, unless you'd
rather be,
off on some romantic venture,
far across the hill and past the sea.

Won't you lie down beside me
and tell me all you know,
about your dreams and wishes
and where you'd like to go.

Let me lie beside you
and I'll talk to you of love
and all the wondrous beauty
that shines from up above.

Let me fill your ears with laughter,
watch the love spill from my eyes,
as I caress you, oh so gently,
enraptured by your sighs.

Stand alone
with strength,
never bending,
to those who would
have you be,
that which you are not.
Let those who chide,
in spiteful manner,
choose carefully,
the words they say.

If I were a sculptor,
I would carve
from the finest piece of stone,
the symmetry of your face.

Time is but a fleeting moment,
passing swiftly through our lives,
never stopping, never waiting,
fleeting by, before our eyes.

Loving you is easy,
it isn't hard to do.
The softness of your
laughter,
the color of your eyes,
your kind and gracious
comments
and soft receptive ear,
means more to me,
than I can say
or that you may
wish to hear.
You walk among
the shadows,
of loves I've known
before
and brighten
my dreary day,
while pushing away
the clouds of unhappiness,
by smiling.

Alone are the lonely,
sadness is their plight,
never feeling wanted,
by themselves, in the night.

There comes a time
when love will die
and indifference comes to life.

Loving strangers, meet at the
midnight hour,
exchanging glances, while held in
tight embrace.
Holding on, with arms entwined,
lest the one you hold, slips away.
Loves swift moment, passes
and will be gone,
by morning light.

If I could, I would be
all the things you,
expect of me,
unless of course,
I wasn't free,
to be the way, I am.
Do you understand?

Maybe, someday, I will
tell you, who I am.
I hope you are not surprised
or disappointed,
by what you hear.

Don't talk to me with your tale of woe.
Don't talk to me of gin.
Don't lecture me, before I go,
don't talk to me of sin,
unless, of course, you realize,
it's with you, I'll first begin.