Yes, I’m still there and I still feel the glow-
Just touched your hair, then watched you smile and go.
But first that kiss, you sweetly asked me first-
A child whose bubble rose until it burst.
How many miles have gathered over years?
While that one scene kept piling on the tears.
Reliving as you vanished in the night.
And wondering if life would make it right.
I guess it’s not the job of life to care
But somehow, I just could not leave it there-
And really, when I think of what I’ve known
That memory’s the best thing I could own.
And there has been a hug or two since then-
Some subtle hints from my precocious pen.
I wrote a book with frequent thoughts of you
And wonder if you read it with them too.
For what’s too much for life must live in dreams-
I’ve never been impressed with how it seems.
But how it feels? I take that to be real.
No fretting that a heart must bleed to heal.
You have struck at the essence of good poetry. Touch your reader with your pain so clearly that it is felt in the deepest recesses of the reader's thoughts. Kudos.
Your words tell of the pain of a loved ones "leaving" and the pain it can impress on the heart. So many feel this same pain. Believe me. Your last line in this heartfelt poem sums it up! Peace and healing to you, my friend!!
This is pure heartfelt, down to the bare essence, good. Very few writers can capture love, and sorrow, and the will to go on as you do. This is your lane, John, and you know capture it better than anyone I know. I don't wish you more heartache, just the inspiration to keep on keeping on. Thanks, Ed.
About the clients and escorts who once were part of Professional Escorts of Marin County, California. The timeframe was from 1974 until 1990.
You will enjoy the easy to read book that gives a glimpse into escorting. Enjoy the read.
This book is an autobiographical account of the lessons I learned about life and how I was able to apply them to inspire, motivate and empower others in my own work as a firefighter, as well in my daily life as a husband, a father and a man. When I w
Ron
Love ya!
Jane