I must have written
A hundred poems about you,
As I sat in the airports-
Scribbling down my thoughts
On the planes, by the lake-
And late at night on my balcony,
Remembering - capturing thoughts
That continually raced through my mind,
Quiet thoughts, peaceful thoughts-
Beautiful thoughts and sad thoughts,
Amazed at how relentless your memory
Follows me - comforts me - haunts me,
Not only in the quiet times when the world
Quits turning, but even when the world
Is spinning completely out of control.

My special book of poems - thoughts,
Now lay full, as I bled you on the pages
With the black shiny ink of memories past,
These words that are remembered
With each heartbeat now lay silent
Between the pages that I hold and feel,
And as I close my eyes I remember
Every dream that was exhaled and released
Into the night, only to be inhaled and reborn,
Because I could not let them go - escape,
Yes, these are my poems - my words - my dreams,
They are not meant for the world,
For the beauty - pain of love and dreams
Are glimpses into the fragile heart-
That are sometimes best kept hidden