By Unmanifested_One on 12/30/2007
Nicotine drag upon these stairs,
I feel a breeze of hope brush by.
She runs to me with movement that declares,
To light her a cig, I dare not ask why.
Ready at her calling, at her request,
Her will is my favor, to this I yield.
Nothing of this task I detest,
Passion & care is all I wield.
Sayings in cookies of fortune.
"You're at the most critical point,
Make the final push" (Uphold this chance soon.)
From hesitation I wish to disjoint.
Why I long for already picked flowers,
Is a mystery yes even to me.
Her scent of longing overpowers,
The doubt in her love I can see.
With somber eyes I watch her gaze,
Confusion is her mirrored thought.
How I wish to lead her out of this haze,
But without her hand I surely cannot.
If like only in dream could I command,
The events that unfold within my life.
Then all could go as I had planned,
And rid myself of this plagued strife.
She knows I am the anxious friend,
I tell her with my expressions.
Those tender soft hands just maybe can mend,
My heart shattered from love's past oppressions.
This desire is a muted melody,
It plays such sweet sounds whenever she's near.
Who else hears but her... Nobody,
'Tis a song for our ears to hear.
Her presence alone grasps my eyes,
My sight to this should become blind.
Her beauty is like that of a sunrise,
My full appreciation is confined.
Between our connection there lies a fence,
I dare not cross this border & make war.
I will lie & wait in suspense,
Hoping that she opens the door.
© Michael D. Carlton
© By Unmanifested_One On 12/30/2007 10:37:34 AM