Poetry

On Loving

I love the soft and gentle things,
like kitten's fur and summer's rain
on window panes and Father's wiskers
scratching softly a love sung in whispers,
and you.

I love the soft and gentle things,
like birds holding flight on wings
that do not fight the ocean breezes
and the kids in Christmas-morning faces,
and you.

I love the soft and gentle things,
like needles underfoot and towering pines
overhead, rustling slightly in the wind
and silent crying in search of a friend,
and you.

I love the soft and gentle things,
like children playing freely in Spring's
cool sunlight and a dog licking my face
and the silent hours in early-morning peace,
and you.

I love the soft and gentle things
which brighten life in tender feelings
of warmth and comfort, like asmile
relieving loneliness and love that stays awhile,
and you.

Walk with me through time —
through the rolling hills, greening
with life's outpouring — the sunshine
glittering, filtered by branches, gleaming
with hope of yesterday's forgiveness
and today's striving and tomorrow's
atoning promise.  Bring me gentleness
like the morning — rinsing sorrow's
timeless scars away.  Bring comfort
like rainbow coloring after rain —
promising acceptance, relief to confront
life's absurdities, release from pain
and fearing.  Bring me loving
like the wind's caressing movement
through the trees — the giving
of life's eternal victory — moment
by moment.

Life's bitter loneliness
has left me now.
Love's sweet caress
comes to replace it.
All my longings
are fulfilled in moments
she comes bringing
me.  I am alive
again in splendor,
in glorious celebration
of giving's tender
trappings.  A thought crossed
my feeble mind
that perhaps in life
I'd never find
a soul to guide
me to contentedness.
But she came unbeckoned,
bringing a tenderness
past knowledge, past belief,
past the timeless
hand of fate's determined
path.  The sweetest
goal in this existence
is some purpose
to pursue.  She offers
love.  I propose
to accept her gift.

I don't remember laughter
before you came to me.
I can't remember lighter
days, when I was free,

because there was no singing
until you provided lyrics.
There was no one bringing
relief from the cynic's

yoke of logic.  The poems
had lost their elocution
in sequence with the times,
and life was resolution;

nothing more — no happiness.
I can't recall feeling much.
I don't remember gentleness
until I knew your touch.

I don't remember knowing,
until you made me sse,
soft as breezes blowing,
love was meant for me.

Sometimes beneath our deepest fears
a faint glimmer of hope remains.
It seems I travelled endless years
in drought before the gentle rains
appeared to bring a resurrection.
I found myself reborn in glorious
splendor in the loving reflection
of your smile, and in some curious
way you bring a meaning
I had not recognized before.
I feel it in the yearning
for a love to nurture
love; I see it in the nectar
of your eyes; I hear it echo
in the sweetness of your laughter;
and sense its overpowering growth
in the moments we share as one.
It is as if my life had just begun.

Come to me softly
in early morning peace.
Speak to me gently
of love that doesn't cease.
Cradle me in tenderness.
Make me once again believe.
Come and ease my loneliness.
Say you'll never leave.
I have met you often
in the bosom of my dreams.
Love was made in heaven,
no matter how it seems.
Say you'll be my lover.
Say it isn't so
that love will ever waver
in an ebb and flow.
Say you came to save
what's left of my heart,
and bring what no one gave
me — a brand new start.

I have seen your eyes before.
In a dream encounter somewhere far
from here I pressed your lips
to mine and time lost grips
gained in a real-life situation.
I held you close, and emotion
built in solemn splendor as fantasy
replaced all else with this momentary
bliss.  Your beauty overwhelmed in gentl
strokes of loving eloquence.  The mental
avenues of dreams become the accomplice
for affection's preparation when the pieces
of a dream come splendidly together.
I know I've encountered you before.

You are the morning
of my life.
I face the coming
day in bright,
clear sunshine.  The sting
of lonely nights
seems distant now.  Bring
me gentle flights
of fancy to loving
fruition, as light
comes in love, dancing
into my life.

As I look into your eyes,
life seems simple.  It is skies
of blue and sunshine showering
golden hills, pine trees towering
in shifting eloquence with breezes
singing in soft, sweet silence.
It is the kitten's cheerful play,
and childhood memories.  A heart sways
in harmony with loving melodies
when swimming contendedly in eyes
so full of peaceful interaction.
Your eyes — pools of satisfaction,
where a lonely traveller seeks
to refresh himself.  He speaks
of loving in terms not recognized
until the splendor of your eyes
made them clear — a kind of blindness
reversed by your deep eyes of kindness.

I watched the rain
today, and thought of you.
I sensed its cleansing
moisture upon my mind, to
wash away the sorrow
of former lives I lived
without you, the tomorrow
of my dreams.  The gift
of love is welcomed
like the rain.  Its fingers
gently stroke the softened
spirit.  Like rain, it lingers
on my mind.

I miss you most in the darkness
of the night, for in the stillness
of a darkened world the heart swells
and the need becomes apparent.  Ego melts
like the sunlight being overtaken, for bravery
is the daytime's folly and a paltry
excuse for men to disguise their wanting.
When the sun disappears, men come whining
for their mother's breast, or lover's tender
comforting.  Men are only little boys, under
pressure.

I am thinking now
of a solemn sunset.
I am dreaming how
when loving eyes met
in timeless eloquence
the world was whole
again.  The remembrance
of this one, full
moment warms my heart
as lovers are apart.