On Her Own

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Watching,
her flourish,
pink, shy blossoms,
all on her own.
anticipating,
an open view,
settling,
on a front row seat,
through slats of a fence.
longing to touch,
desiring,
a position at her attempt,
yet, you’ve refrained.
seeing her beauty unfold,
with the rhythm of yours,
acceptable,
this morning.
for I see the hesitation,
feel the need,
and witness the control,
you have within yourself,
to let her approach,
innocently.
knowing,
eventually a fragrance will,
settle upon your face,
and you will breathe again,
as the sigh of her submission,
honors you.

Where SHE Needs HIM To Be…

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Asked, ” where does SHE need HIM to be?”
my poetry, as of late, offers questioning.
I don’t know, quite honestly,
I suspect, he knows,
innately.
believing when she is cared for,
love will feel like a drop of dew,
caught,
by a mountain view.
waking a heart from the start,
answering before the questions begin,
functioning on complete trust,
not yesterday’s sins.
HIM will know this heart of hers,
SHE his soulmate,
HIM, the one who understands,
the directions SHE will go, listens.
leading effortlessly, watching ,
with pride,
he already knows,
similar they are inside.
no effort required, mostly,
shouldn’t love be that easy?
HIM and SHE believe in connection
completely,
eternity born from fated opportunity.

***
For Shari, who asked me, “What about where SHE needs HIM to be?” I hope this is a sufficient answer. My first follower, now a dear friend, I adore you. I appreciate you watching over me. Thanks for offering a chance for me to ponder your question.

Wild West

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For him, a place to sit,
Question the realities of life,
How to shape Texas into,
A dream, for he and his wife.
This step back in time,
Leaves me wondering,
Was this his perch for surveying,
The objects that were now rightfully his,
A new life, someday with kids.
Perhaps he offered this space to her,
Because he loved to watch her sew,
Soaked in a morning’s summer glow,
While he sat opposite the porch.
Upon that wooden stump,
Pondering her position, her post,
Maybe he had needs and wants.
Or did he have something else in mind,
Feeling fortunate having found,
A picture perfect setting,
To drive his senses wild.

Yearning

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This morning’s view didn’t whisper love,
There weren’t romantic signals, in colorful hues,
Left there to guide me,
While pushing through routine.
It was my mind’s song from yesterdays past,
Yes, one by Otis Redding.
Honestly, the song surprised me,
Reminded my broken heart of you,
Yet, encouraged my beliefs regarding true love,
And left me yearning in quiet blue.