I Offered Myself To You

Thoughtful and creative words
Full of thankfulness,
Reflect me, as a woman
Appreciative of being heard.

image

These gifts
Are nothing in comparison
To my submission
As I offered myself to you.

image

I waited a long time to be seen
Through your poetic eyes
Read my poetry, and find clearly
I felt you long before you arrived.

***
Thank you for listening,
Aud

Pain

image

I watched her
the pain in her eyes
the grip she had on the handle
white knuckled
slowly departing
caving to her mind
yet, feeling her heart
fight right back
tears wiped
smudged across her cheek
watching through
a rainy mirrored day
as she slowly becomes me
incapable of allowing
what her soul needs

Here

image

All I keep thinking
is I took you home with me,
from here: my world.
Inside me,
there is a rhythm,
a melody and a presence
I recognize.
Weakening into a strength,
inside this cool air,
allowed me
to breathe, to feel
and be myself.
The quietness,
awakening my core
as I heard the sound of love;
pure devotion, nothing more.
I keep this spirit,
this lead, and confidence,
close.
You’re thriving,
more than simply alive
behind my breasts.
You’re beating continuously,
effortlessly wild,
yet, this isn’t enough.
I belong with you, here.

I’m Not An Italian Poetess

image

Typical Monday, it seems. Tried making lunch, while writing my feelings. Epic fail ensues, as thoughts continue to pursue my mind. Forcing me so easily to forget the time.

Poet’s are always lyrical, definitely this one, it seems. I can’t get past writing this as poetry. Stick a knife in my side. Please, won’t you abide? My friends, don’t write and bake, unless burned pizza is all you’re willing to take. My wishes sincere, once again, don’t do both while planning to eat, you won’t win.

Thankful I have a few other attributes that keep you coming around. Like maybe my smile or even my frowns. Tears shower plenty upon these walls, oh God, stop her before she continues to pitfall.

Laughter begins, oh look, a grin! Yep, tis possible, she’s drunk again. No, my friends, it isn’t so. I’m just handling a Monday, so far as this one goes…

Loyal followers, stay with me, please. This is only going to hurt for a minute. Slap happy grins is how I’ll spin it, you’ll see.

***
She’ll never be an Italian chef
and poetess, too
just look at what
wandering thoughts
can do…

Writer’s multitasking summer,
kitchen’s a wreck,
lovely ideas interrupt
baking, for endless possibilities,
if only I would’ve stopped to check…

This homemade pizza now crisp
and slightly burned, tis true
thankful, in the end
this treat,
is simply a vessel for brew…

image

I should go back into the Houston sun. It’s just delightfully hot and humid here. Yeah, I know, I’m almost done. The end is near…

Yours,
Audrey

His One

image

Lavender chosen, breathe in,
often found crushed,
scent of live petals,
lathered upon skin.
An original flower,
leaving one wistful,
for Old World pleasures,
and a relaxing grin.
Here, a pastel color,
for a mini mighty bloom,
a gift, an honor,
radiating in royal hues.
A favorite, whispered a man,
he, instantly in love with her,
pondering, deciding,
while love remained true.
Solely: with no other witness,
during a quiet afternoon view,
he claimed her for eternity,
she sighing, as his One and only.