Sometimes Love Doesn't (Quite) Make It
Gay or
straight, man or woman, I dare say there are a good few people out there whose hearts have been
stirred if not broken by a romantic interlude on holiday…or just about any
time, anywhere.
Oh, but
romance can be so fickle. Love, now that’s something else, and where
there’s life…
SOMETIMES
LOVE DOESN’T (QUITE) MAKE IT
I’ve
strolled in green hills
felt
summer’s fingers in my hair,
raindrops
like kisses,
envying
leafy songbirds
free to
fly where they choose
as nature
intended,
lying on
a bed of heather
its scent
invading all my senses
just as
you (still) do
We’d
stroll in green hills
where
you’d run fingers in my hair,
(pausing
for kisses)
and write
love songs
for the
birds, fly where we chose
as nature
intended,
lying on
a bed of heather
its scent
invading all our senses,
all but conquering
us
I’ve
walked grubby streets
felt
summer’s fingers tease my hair,
raindrops
like tears,
envying
couples holding hands
their
sweeter life choices
(or
nature at play?)
wishing
them kinder places
than sure
to invade all the senses,
keep the
spoils
Once, we were
songbirds flying high,
till a
north wind exposed us for a lie
Copyright
R. N. Taber 2010
Labels: global consciousness, human nature, human spirit, life forces, love, mind-body-spirit, nature, personal space, physical attraction, poetry, relationships, romance, society
posted by R. N. Taber | 16:45
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