I hear love’s softest whisper,
Confessing, I adore you.
Words floating with me tonight,
As I find my way,
To you in dreams.
Breathing in with relief,
I relax, it will always be you.
Nothing connects, right now
Words narrowly escape deletion
With everything I have, I try
Not to find disgust, oozing
From my pores, which lack essence
Truthfulness and ability
I’m losing the battle, daily
Believing I am, nothing
I want you to know I am writing, but this is all that has come out the last few days.
Wasn’t the possibilities of your fingers,
Softly interlaced with mine.
It isn’t the irreplaceable thought,
Of receiving your seductive kiss.
Won’t be the yearning dreams,
We cannot make come true.
Just so you may, my love,
Truly understand this poetess,
It is your creative mind,
That will always leave me,
Longing, day and night,
Happy Friday Night, my friends! Enjoy your weekend! ♡♡♡
Casting down poetic eyes,
while fostering emotions differently,
an accepting Poetess waits.
To protect herself,
she delicately wraps,
her fated heart,
destined to react,
Securing each subliminal verse,
as her own dreaded curse,
she stands alone.
Tears falling, gently,
escaping from her grasp,
lost inside moments,
she knows will pass.
“Well, I think you’re brave, Dear.”
“We’ve been through this before, Audrey, I’m always brave.”
“Then why are you denying me eye contact? It seems to me that you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous!”
“You look nervous, as you fling that mud through the air, you know.”
“Yes, well, that could be because you keep bringing up tomorrow, Ma’am,” he replies, while standing up.
“Calling me names won’t help you sort your mind. What are you doing digging in the mud, anyway? “
“Would you like a pie in the face,” he threatens, as mud goes flying through the air. Landing near her feet.
“I think you’re worried about a pie in your face, quite frankly,” she yelps, while she dances over two and three steps.
“I am not! What I’m doing is fishing, you see…”
“Yes, you are, Mister. Fishing? Umm, that’s mud. Just mud. Only mud.”
“I can’t fix it. This moment was meant to be, I believe.”
“What if I mess up horridly?”
“What if you do? It won’t change a thing. I’ll still be here, Darling.”
“Well, because I want to be, and you were here supporting me when no one else was, probably, so that makes us…us. You haven’t missed a single moment of mine. How many horrid moments did you encourage me through, Sir?”
“I can’t think of one, actually. No such moments for you.”
“There’s been plenty, ya Goof. Move over, please. What kind of fish are we looking for in here?” She questions, as her hands begin digging.
“…if you’re looking for turtles, then I’m looking for turtles.”
“There won’t be any turtles, I fear.”
“There will always be turtles…”