When I close my eyes
underneath the light of
the moon, it is you that I
dream of; sunlight kisses
over the mountains, crisp
breezes running fingers
through my hair, and sweet
gentle chatter over coffee
on Pearl Street. My heart
aches for your embrace –
hand in hand strolls beneath
the light of the stars, while
counting wishes of whispers
of hope, longing and love.
With every new moon, I
close my eyes, dreaming
of you and I – together
being home, once again.
Let’s just ride; let us
hop in a car and ride.
Drive west through the
mountains and when we
get to the top shout out
all of our insecurities and
see where they fall, for
nothing can evoke our
fears once we own them.
We can continue driving
until we run out of road,
stopping in the sand and
kicking off our shoes as
we run into the waters,
drowning the words that
we have chosen to keep
silent, and when the moon
has set we’ll start all over
again, heading east past
the plains, or south into
the deserts – wherever
you want my dear, and
that’s the beauty of it all,
let’s just hop in and ride.
if I had a dream to risk
to come true, I’d spend
my night dancing under
the moonlight with you,
two hours past midnight
holding each other close,
we’d be laughing until the
morning light rose, reliving
our first date with twenty
questions and promises
foretold, foregoing the
dancing for blankets in
the cold, we’d have just
one night to allow our
imaginations to roam,
before separately we
each ventured home.
I spent yesterday in
silence, trying to
escape the repetition
of your name on my lips,
fleeing from my feeble
attempts at capturing
your beauty into verse;
yet even with a lack of
words, they circled
around my head, creating
visions of your laugh
reflecting off of the
outskirts of the light of
the moon, and I awakened
to a new kind of silent
poetry, and I was in love.
how will you decipher when
my words have shifted from
you to another? will you notice
when I stop mentioning your
eyelashes and how free they
make your spirit, or the rosy
tint of your cheeks as you
laugh to the heavens while
sipping on Jameson rocks?
I suppose it shouldn’t matter;
if you can continue seeing
yourself in my words, then at
least you still see yourself in
my heart, thinking of us too.
I always thought you the lily,
with innocence and such
sweet desire, blossoming
with only my touch of hand.
I never imagined you as the
rose, until I pricked myself,
trying to hold you – with every
drop of blood, memories are
catching fire two fold and I
find myself back in the lull
of the meadows, searching
for my lily to love again.
I never follow my
desire and it costs
me a heartbeat,
every day of my life.
No action, no tears,
just a raw lack of
an all consuming
lifestyle brought
down with a break
in my day, when
my lungs contract
without a blood
flow transcending
into my soul; I am
delirious with a
desire that I can
no longer follow,
and I am not whole.
Remember how we used to
make fun of those lovers
bidding on their happily
ever after only two weeks
in? We’d laugh and gawk,
swearing that compassion
grew only with time and
understanding, and no one
else would ever compare
to what we had anyway.
But look at you now…
bidding your heart away
on another, two seconds in,
with only a lifetime of
happiness up for stake.
It was the back and forth
calling at the docks, with
tides turning into waves,
splashing for attention
but still going unanswered
as you heard the creak of
wood, and still chose to
stand with your back turned,
one eye on the sky – even
the ocean couldn’t bring
you home; it was just our
chatter of promises, left
rummaging in the waters,
pleading with the dock for
an ounce of breath or a
guided light back safely.
The last time we spoke I was
too caught up in your words
to even get lost in your eyes;
eyelashes fluttering in time
to the ever rising heartbeats.
I missed the glance, except I
heard you this time – I heard
you say you’re out, but it
can’t stop my memories from
reaching out to love you so.
Storylines in Verse 