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#PoetryFriday - New Day

New Day

Every day is new
every day is a lifetime.
There is no tomorrow.
Tomorrow doesn’t exist.

Each morning with you
is a new birth.
I awake to a crying baby
learning to live
and to love.

I will never have another morning like this
with you.
As the day progresses,
each waft of wind
and each ray of sunshine
brightens anew
and warms like never before.

I know the day is all I have
and I know that
all I have is you.

How can I savor each moment
without remembering that the moments will end?
How can I love you
each day
without remembering that I may not be here
to love you tomorrow?

As day moves into night
and my body complains,
as the pain
of aging another day,
reminds me of my frailty,
I remember that I may not get another night
with you.
I go to sleep with the joy of the completed day
waiting to be surprised
if I get another new day
and another rebirth
of loving you.

#PoetryFriday - Old City

Old City

They walked the old city
and watched ancient buildings
row upon row
stark reminders of another time.
The streetcars rumbled and squeaked
rolling on iron rails
that were smooth with time.
But, everything old
was new again.
They looked with fresh eyes
at creaky voodoo dolls
and street vendors
trailing purple and gold streamers
with easy abandon.
Mimes dressed as clowns
and tourists dressed alike
mingled in a dance of old and new.
They ate and drank
and lived and loved
and walked and walked
like it was the first time.

Their love was new
and nothing old
could make it less appealing.

Maybe all love is new
until it isn’t anymore.

#PoetryFriday - Impatient Lover

Impatient Lover

He raced toward the end of his life,
As though his life depended on it.
He hurried towards his goal,
Blinders fixed,
Pupils dilated,
Huffing and puffing.

What did he seek?

Was he afraid of what lay behind?
Did he long for what lay ahead?

As he traveled the road,
He realized that he could not see
the roses or the other flowers
along the way.
Their blurred outlines
gave suggestions
of beauty,
But he had always
seen them
on the periphery
of his voyage.

Then,
unexpectedly,
she appeared before him.
No matter how he tried to escape,
she stayed with him,
Tugging,
Pulling,
Cautioning him
against his frenzied course.

Stop and see,
she said.
Wait for me,
she said.
I will be here
if you stay with me.

He had never felt such power
in one so gentle,
and he responded in kind.
His inclination
to speed ahead
was tempered by her gentle, loving voice.
He stopped to listen.

Just as suddenly,
the roses and the flowers
came into focus,
and the beauty of the world
became apparent.
His breathing slowed,
and,
as he turned,
She looked at him
and smiled.

He was blind.
Now, he could see.

Poems For Lovers

#PoetryFriday - Cancerian Shuffle

CANCERIAN SHUFFLE

Her hard shell protected her
Suspicious,
tentative,
eyes sharpened to a point
fixed on the beach sand
she shuffled back and forth,
never settled in,
never happy.
The sand rubbed her underbelly
as she slid towards the surf.
She cast a bug eye
looking for scorpions
known to prowl in the area.
She touched her claw
in the water
gingerly.
The water was cold with the winter chill,
but would warm in the spring.
She wanted a long peaceful swim,
predator free.

She was surprised
when the scorpion
offered her a ride
to love island.
Could a scorpion be trusted?
She refused,
and the scorpion vowed
to keep asking
until she said yes.

After all,
hadn't he been willing
to leave the desert
without knowing
how to swim?

#PoetryFriday - Just Another Day In Paradise

JUST ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE

He sat next to her
Watching the sun fall into the Gulf
Yellow turned to passionate red
And palm trees and beach umbrellas
swaying in the cool breeze.
Powdery sand
White from the sun
faded to gray and then to black
as the light disappeared above the horizon.

She tightly held his hand
The strength showed purpose
and passion
He hadn’t felt it in a long time.

It felt like eternity.

The fire pit wall
lit the night
flames dancing sensuously
Their souls touched with the magic of recognition.

Her skin
Burnished in the fading light
glowed as he stroked her arm
Stopping often
Squeezing it
In a sign of devotion.

It felt like eternity.

He was transported to another beach
and another time
Diamond sand and translucent smoke
rising from a distant campfire.

He would lie with her
Next to an ocean
Teeming with life
Comfortable with death.

It would forever be
Just another day in Paradise.

 

 

 

 

#PoetryFriday - Reunion

Reunion

They were together again.
Broken bodies
with unbroken spirits
laughing at death and dying
having a meal for the ages.

The wisdom of age
made them see with new eyes
and they recounted past challenges
with glee and laughter.

Isn’t it strange
how tragedy becomes comedy
with the passage of time?

Betrayal without bitterness.
Death without sorrow.
Broken bodies that heal.

He basked in the memories
and the heartache.
Because it was the pain
that made life bearable
after it passed.

He took another drink
and passed the bread
and shared the love
that only time can bring.

#PoetryFriday - Reunion

Reunion

They were together again.
Broken bodies
with unbroken spirits
laughing at death and dying
having a meal for the ages.

The wisdom of age
made them see with new eyes
and they recounted past challenges
with glee and laughter.

Isn’t it strange
how tragedy becomes comedy
with the passage of time?

Betrayal without bitterness.
Death without sorrow.
Broken bodies that heal.

He basked in the memories
and the heartache.
Because it was the pain
that made life bearable
after it passed.

He took another drink
and passed the bread
and shared the love
that only time can bring.

#PoetryFriday - Tarot

Tarot

He studied her
as she placed the cards
upon the table.
Did she hear his beating heart?
Could she sense his mind racing?
Did she hear his silent prayer
asking for a future of loving her?
Could she read the desire in his body?

As the cards fell
and she pretended to see meaning in them,
he sensed that it was all a game.
He already knew that he was bound to the past,
a past that was filled with broken love
and broken promises.

He didn’t need the cards to tell him.
He was a budding plant,
growing towards a powerful sun,
reaching for the sky.
He was a boy-man,
learning to love.
He didn’t need the cards to tell him,
he had much work to do.

#PoetryFriday - Picasso

Picasso

Your scent lingers on my pillow,
like the confident stroke of the artist.
A work of art that
I embrace
with a passion
I can't remember
in my past.

I grasp it
with a voracious appetite.
I am hungry for your touch,
Desperate
for your love,
So cautiously given.

The music of the ages
rings in my ears.
I am drawn
along the rapids of my desire.
I am cast upon the rocks
of your beauty.
I crash madly
against the winter of my confusion.
I am chilled by uncertainty.
I long for your affection.

I don't need a river guide
to tell me that the scenery is magnificent,
or that the rapids are dangerous.
I am an adventurer.
I am unafraid of drowning
in the cool depths
of your ancient waters.

Embrace me.