The Need To Write

It's late - and though I shouldn't

I dare,

to write as if

I just don't care.

Bells will ring

clocks will chime

The alarm will call

"You're out of time"

And yet I write

with desperation

the words their own

compensation.

The words I compile

not really my style.

and yet I still smile

This'll carry me for a while...

My fingers gently reach out

to feel your warmth,

I inhale deeply,

savoring your scent.

You are just what I need.

It's been a rough long day,

and there are so few who can be relied upon,

but I knew that you would be here.

Waiting. Ready.

Just for me.

I dreamed of the moment

When I'd lift you up,

and cradle you gently.

And as my lips will touch you

ever so softly,

I'll know I'm home.

Ahhh. Sweet java.

You’re what dreams are made of.

Down Came the Rain

I trusted implicitly
I waited until my heart broke,
I then shouted at the vast emptiness
- and knew the rain would come.

Searching but not seeing,
Wanting but not having,
Questioning while knowing,
- that it's time for the rain.

From empty and clear
to dark and gray,
from anticipation to trepidation
- here comes the rain.

I looked out the window,
and hoped against hope.
Yet sure enough
- down came the rain.

A Different Direction

I like poetry. I always have. I find that the ability to express emotions is most easily done in poetic verse.

The rhythm encompasses.
Sometimes stifles,
sometimes reassures,
and at times enraptures,
- but it always captures.

One's mind, one's heart, one's soul.


So now dear reader, I hereby present my latest attempts.
Let me know what you think.