Breath Of Love
Let me watch your hair blow in the wind of my mind.
Take me to that place where words are silent and blind.
I follow you to the sounds of this Earth,
singing out to unfound places in the universe.
Help me find love on this journey, entrapped on this flavoured time.
We follow each other through all the pages of these stories,
creating a book, written with deluded finds;
distorted with the age of red wine.
Will this book be bound with love?
Or will the pages die?
It’s up to us, to complete a memory
that defines our love with every find.
because the beginning becomes the end
as love takes its last breath.
Love Is Here
Love is found in the fingerprints of our DNA.
Love is our colourful imagination wanting to play.
Love builds the world and civilizations out of rich platinum clay.
Love is these words, remembered again on a different day.
Love can be hurtful and full of hate.
Love is lost and found again as fate.
Love is simple.
Love is gay.
Love is the meaning to all this say.
Love can be a single tear, lost on a rainy day.
Love is the light falling behind the clouds on a sandy beach bay.
As I sit here with my eyes closed in the darkness of this play,
I feel love reminding me
that it’s already here to stay.
Chase me among the dazzling meadows.
Follow me into the willow painted summerhouse.
Laugh with me, tell me your stories,
I want to hear them from the beginning again.
Walk with me down the garden path.
Run with me, beyond where the stars live that we can’t grasp.
Tell me your jokes; I want to laugh until my belly chokes.
Chase me! Into the fields of yellow and orange daffodils.
Follow me over these rolling hills – where our eyes look like they’re about to spill.
Love me forever, dance with my soul, let’s make babies together – until we grow old.
Walk with me down the aisle.
Run with me, to Saturn, where we can breathe and watch the patterns.
Write me a sonnet I can read on my own,
to remember these words; we left on a stone.
Pain Of Love
The flame from a warm yellow candle has no pain.
Can you dance the Pasodoble without a shadow of shame?
Sharp thorns from a rose bush – stick in my skin.
The blood from my nose gushes, after a fight – to which I couldn’t win.
I feel lost without love after shaking your hand.
The weakness of my power – shows the people my secret plans.
Love hurts me;
love is lost in my brain;
love won’t show me its real power –
no matter how much I pray.
The steps of the castle tower make me walk slow.
Bread makes all men bloated while marching in the snow.
The trees wave in the blue inked sky
while I struggle to work out the simple reason why!
Is love the red in a rose?
Or the feeling of awaking naked – with your arm around the bedpost?
Is love the tender touch of your wife?
Who wakes up every morning and watches you in the night.
Is love your delicate children?
Who grow up to hate you, then love you when all seems right.
Is love just a word made up?
To describe the meaningless – meaningful, like God making clouds out of sight.
Love is love, wrapped up tight;
exploding in the furthest reaches of your mind.
Is love you and me?
Walking in the night, waiting for a bus that forgets to turn on the lights.
Love just is! But it isn’t,
“That will have to do” as love isn’t a riddle made for me and you.
An Interdimensional Call
I was shouted at, From the outer reaches of this universe.
She told me to wake up
and give back my gifts,
to all who need a helping hand;
On this journey of a deliberate plan.
Again, she was right!
As I’d forgotten how to fight;
in the shadows where light had left us on a relative flight.
She helped me rebuild my mind
but only for the last time
as I converse with strangers;
Looking for a lost neighbour –
In all these white pages;
Written by a different kind.
She wraps up one hundred pound notes
and gives them to the children living on the roads.
She cries for the innocent;
She weeps for those in prison;
She offers her hand
without question to this land.
She understands the nature of life
and creates it when all seems right.
She leans towards the light
with a distinctive smile
that puts an end to wars while walking with all her might.
She wants to be happy
and that is all she asks.
So it is given – without a written verse.
Waiting For Her Man
The warmth from her slender neck
caresses the silky soft waves of the duvet set;
slipped over her naked body –
wrapped up like a present for sex.
A love note was left
after the night spent
This love can never end.
But it did without no need to pretend.
Maybe in another life
may we meet again.
Let’s share this lost moment
before our time is broken.
Did you enjoy these sonnets? You can check out more love poems here.