My Weakness
By La Belle Rouge


watching someone suffering
even if they made me suffer
I cannot bear to see a man cry
it reduces me to maternal core
that wants to beg not to see it
watching someone die and being
able to offer nothing to explain
or ease mystery of their passing

babies, little humans with tiny hands
oh sweet babies with endearing smiles
and your wordless cooing songs of joy
lying under trees on a soft blanket
while branches above you are swaying
and I cannot take my eyes from yours
bright eyes that still reflect heaven’s
colors and angel’s doting adoration

puppies and kittens and other young
who run and jump making happy noises
who look at me with wise, melting eyes
and make we want to befriend them all
handsome men in well cut suits and ties
weathered men in cowboy hats and boots
bikers with big biceps and bold dark eyes
whose long hair flies, whipped by the wind

statements of a bedrock faith in God
when there only appear reasons to doubt
yes, my spirit is open to divine intervention
poems that swathe my soul in deep truth
or give sensual excuses to be so vulnerable
I love the words, I love the images evoked
by the strong voice of a true romance poet
love in all its forms, yes, love is my weakness



11/7/2012 La Belle Rouge