My right palm met the small of her back,
Her response, much harsher than the fiercest of smacks,
Succumb she did, but with the arch of her bone,
It was time to face the trouble at home.
Where is my present?
An honest enquiry shrieked love's decline,
This love of ours was no longer mine,
As I pulled her to me and offered embrace,
I could see the fear that contorted her face.
Where is my present?
The me, the she, were inextricably we,
But she knew I intended to somehow break free,
Two lives in one was what we had become,
But the I in we sensed the set of the sun.
Where is my present?
You, my dearest love, must go it alone,
Make you, not we, your abiding throne,
Don't see me when you awake in your bed,
Look for your presence inside your head.
I really love and enjoy words written from the heart-mind-body and soul. it captivates and catches the readers attention and I admire you for that. Keep writing and never stop because writing is such a great form of all releases.
I met Jerome on a busy city street in Baltimore, Maryland, when he was forty-five years old. On that particular day, I was out and about, enjoying a much-needed day off from work.
I wanted to purchase a sukiyaki sub. I parked my car in an area of
A collection of love poetry both relatable and unique.. Poems both joyful, playfu , yearning and romantic. The Poet has exposed his heart and soul in words of love and admiration. Take a journey through the thoughts of a Contempary poet of love. Poet
A collection of love poetry both relatable and unique.. Poems both joyful, playfu , yearning and romantic. The Poet has exposed his heart and soul in words of love and admiration. Take a journey through the thoughts of a Contempary poet of love. Poet
Share
Print
Save
Follow
