Rogue Romanticism
by Odin Roark

Romance…

It roams about in all sizes, shapes and types,
Its essence never chose
to be only for human intercourse.
That was our invention.

Elusive as it is,
Romance knows when fraudulent efforts
try their stealth-like ventures,
when yesterday’s flowers
are given as today’s,
when perfume emanating from
department store cosmetics
bear but testimony to marketing’s cheap allure for the lusty.

But…

To venture into a wilderness
void of fashion,
perhaps a ghost town,
its tumbleweed of past history
rolling about asking us to look,
ask, maybe even remember.

Romance knows of times void of
man/woman relationships,
yes, even man/man, woman/woman
when two people had only
a dream of something better than their reality,
back then… frontierism seemed to pacify.

Then came the most forgotten…

Those that gave themselves to an environment of love,
that place where be it food,
paintings,
cars,
a secure stock portfolio,
maybe even an honestly given and received
donation to charity without political favors in return,
they experienced epiphanous moments.
Is that not romantic?

Romance was never invented to be void of mystery,
the unexpected excitement and remoteness from everyday life.
it has never confined itself to flesh, everyday emotions,
Or some kind of conquest at the local bar.

No…

Romance is far more sophisticated.

Next time you stare at a morning sunrise,
Or the enormity of a moonlit sky,
Ask yourself if there isn’t something romantic about that?

Then…

Ask does love’s omnipresent essence
really need an object connection to another object
to be realized as…well, Romance?

Yes…

It comes in all sizes, shapes and sizes.
Pick your focus.

Maybe Romance is that quality of love
reserved for those who’ve not checked their imagination
with the “that’s behind me” syndrome.