This Ain’t So Bad
I love it here. I love the light. I love the wind and the sun and the sounds.
I love all that there is and all that there could be.
And, yes, indeed I do love the sumptuousness of thee.
No matter your problems, no matter mine.
No matter the seriousness from which we sometimes think we’ll just die.
We ought to run around, and sing and shout and have a grand time.
Reveling in what we’ve got and the time we can make to take it all in.
Rolling down the hill into the arms of yonder rambling stream.
Basking on the slopes of the mountains that fuel our fantasies with its view.
Let’s just live in love. Let’s just find the harmony in what we can.
Let’s just know the time to see each other breathe and sigh.
Happy to know that we are in love with a beautiful girl, a sweet guy.
And, frolicking through the tall grasses we’ve found on the side of the road …
… where we stopped just for a moment to savor just this.
12 July 2010 A
Monday, July 19, 2010
Incite
incite me to learning, incite me to love, to yearning, to the heart's palpitations that men can but live a mere second without
incite in my passions the desire to know all that there is to know about you, how you tick, how your heart beats when i am near
incite in the lovers around you the desire to be the best for their loves that they can be, that they can imagine, that they can feel
incite in these words the dedication of one who can know no further, no better, no more immaculately conceived feeling than the touch of your warming hand in winter.
and, my dear, my friend, my long lost companion, please play for me that soul's music, the poetry of the blessed, or the children at play
play for the scores that are wrought from the effervescence flowing from Mt. Olympus down into the valleys at noon
down into the streets and the cafe's where the workmen, the washer women, the mothers and fathers take their mid-day meal
thankful and relieved that they have, this day, met with the love that they had waited upon for so long, for all those years when they had no hope.
yes, please, concoct those verses, those melodies, those rhythms that play on long into the night, wafting through my heart's strings, setting me to singing
setting me to a chorus of accolades for the brilliance that i have felt through the reeds that blow upon the lake's shores,
in the warm days of spring, just before the Sun's setting moments bring me back to the recognition that it is your touch that brought me here
it is my searching for you that has kept me going on into the night, into the days, into the creations that guaranteed my joys would overtake my cries and disappointments.
incite me to playing that wondrous song that flows all around us when we are hidden beneath our bedclothes, snuggled against the cold
snuggled against the uncertainties that others have tried to impress upon us, others have tried to make us believe are the hallmark of love
others have not recognized are nothing to do with love, but rather the traitorous lies of the few that would separate us, would have us forsake our future
the future which, because we have been brave enough to love, no matter what, we have now found assures us a blessed and beautiful life in the arms of the one we love as if they were life itself.
29 January 2010.1
incite me to learning, incite me to love, to yearning, to the heart's palpitations that men can but live a mere second without
incite in my passions the desire to know all that there is to know about you, how you tick, how your heart beats when i am near
incite in the lovers around you the desire to be the best for their loves that they can be, that they can imagine, that they can feel
incite in these words the dedication of one who can know no further, no better, no more immaculately conceived feeling than the touch of your warming hand in winter.
and, my dear, my friend, my long lost companion, please play for me that soul's music, the poetry of the blessed, or the children at play
play for the scores that are wrought from the effervescence flowing from Mt. Olympus down into the valleys at noon
down into the streets and the cafe's where the workmen, the washer women, the mothers and fathers take their mid-day meal
thankful and relieved that they have, this day, met with the love that they had waited upon for so long, for all those years when they had no hope.
yes, please, concoct those verses, those melodies, those rhythms that play on long into the night, wafting through my heart's strings, setting me to singing
setting me to a chorus of accolades for the brilliance that i have felt through the reeds that blow upon the lake's shores,
in the warm days of spring, just before the Sun's setting moments bring me back to the recognition that it is your touch that brought me here
it is my searching for you that has kept me going on into the night, into the days, into the creations that guaranteed my joys would overtake my cries and disappointments.
incite me to playing that wondrous song that flows all around us when we are hidden beneath our bedclothes, snuggled against the cold
snuggled against the uncertainties that others have tried to impress upon us, others have tried to make us believe are the hallmark of love
others have not recognized are nothing to do with love, but rather the traitorous lies of the few that would separate us, would have us forsake our future
the future which, because we have been brave enough to love, no matter what, we have now found assures us a blessed and beautiful life in the arms of the one we love as if they were life itself.
29 January 2010.1
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