“Condemned for Loving too Much”
All was quiet in this forgotten town,
Because of the record snow tumbling down,
Yet in the plaza crowds were shopping still,
Looking for entertainment to get their fill,
There were walkers, and talkers, shops all ablaze,
Restaurants still open but countless delays,
Marge was waiting patiently and talking to a friend,
This day had been perfect, she didn’t want it to end,
Somehow, she noticed him, standing off from the crowd,
His gray eyes fixed on her, haughty and proud,
His brown coat, his lean frame, the thin twisted nose,
Why she alone could see him, she could only suppose,
His eyes asked questions, the answers she didn’t dare,
What kind of man was he? One that didn’t care?
Was he an angry ghost or a demon of some kind?
Why were his thoughts penetrating her mind?
Somehow in his hands he held her new fate,
She thought, “Is it possible to love someone you hate?”
As this thought surfaced, Marge pushed it away,
She had never seen him before, not until today,
“He is not attractive,” she thought, “not in the least,”
But he continued to stare at her like she was a feast,
Her face flushed, and deep within the heat began,
Rising in waves until perspiration ran,
She was uncomfortable, she needed time to think,
But he watched her diligently, not once did he blink,
“Is it possible to love your enemy?” she thought,
“What is it about me that’s so eagerly sought?”
She was thirty-three years old for goodness sake,
And ten pounds too heavy, give or take,
Yet she was flattered by his attention even more,
Unlike her friends, all her faults he chose to ignore,
He willed her to move forward, but he didn’t insist,
Although she closed her eyes, she was helpless to resist,
Silently Marge turned, her demon she faced,
When he smiled, her legs trembled, her heart raced,
She took one step forward, two, then three,
She unbuttoned her blouse, letting him see,
She hated him and yet she was offering her kind,
Melting into love, her body yielding to his mind,
Seeking his hatred, demands, contempt to slay,
Doing what she could, loving his hate away,
An act of love determined Marge’s fate,
Is it possible to love, someone you hate?
All is quiet again in this forgotten town,
But there is one less demon standing around,
No one wants to question or be out of touch,
Should Marge be condemned for loving too much?
“Practice. Practice. Practice,” I say.
We know we must dance together purposely,
Even when our moves are smooth and graceful.
Our movements must be effortless and natural.
Two long steps. Slide. Two quick short steps.
I lead and you follow.
Our eyes are locked. Our hands firm.
We communicate by touch and sight.
The hours of practice are evident as we display our skills.
We move as one. I step. You step. I jump. You jump.
There is no hesitation. Your confidence in me is important.
When we make love we follow the same patterns,
Even if our moves are smooth and graceful.
We practice, learning from each other,
Communicating by touch and heart.
My speed is measured as I wait for your growing passion.
I move and you follow.
Loving and dancing. Dancing and loving.
There is no hesitation. Your confidence in me is vital.
Celebrating our love, communicating with our hearts.
I’ll never let you go as we move as one.
you believe in my love. I believe in yours.
Our confidence in each other is crucial,
As we love, dance, communicate, and celebrate.
Our love grows deeper each time.
These gnarled hands once were strong and quick,
Tying fishing lures and shoelaces.
They wiped tears and held your hand,
Kept you safe in scary places.
These feet usually raced you home.
You always thought it was fun.
Then we had days of kicking back,
Relaxing as we soaked up the sun.
These eyes read the words in your favorite books,
Counted stars and vacation miles.
I watched you grow up too quick,
Leaving for school with grown-up smiles.
My heart once thumped loudly at each parade,
As you marched proudly by.
Often we laughed at memories we made.
My! How the years did fly!
The Love I Left Behind
My heart built walls and I could not trust.
With no one to care for, my heart could rust.
I challenged my heart to venture out again.
Because of wounds, it was reluctant to begin.
I was helpless at first, but my love ran deep.
Soon I was searching for a lover to keep.
Walls separated us and I hastened on my way,
Looking for a new relationship to fill my day.
I searched desperately, yet I could not settle down.
A perfect woman was elusive and could not be found.
I became a victim of my own love/hate wars.
Bouncing from love to hate, I blamed failure on the stars.
But surviving was not living, I needed one true love.
I looked for guidance from Venus and Cupid above.
Dreams were all I had, though troubled from the start.
But I did not give up, orders came from my heart.
One last try, I decided, before my search was through.
Then I got lucky, because love brought me to you.
- What is Love? (lovinggodinchaos.com)
- This Valentine, question yourself! (bondsnbinds.wordpress.com)
- Once bitten, twice bold…DO WE LOVE ONLY ONCE IN LIFE? (erumsuchistan.wordpress.com)
- In the Spirit of Valentine (seedsofcolours.wordpress.com)
- What Is This Thing Called Love? (danroberson.wordpress.com)
- Put a little love in your home (pillowsandpaint.wordpress.com)
- “I Love You” How do you say it? (stephanie-hurt.com)
- Ticking hearts (loveandlifeproject.com)
- Cupid Got Your Heart? 15 Signs You’re Really In Love (madamenoire.com)
- Cupid Sometimes Misses Mark (onthehomefrontandbeyond.wordpress.com)
Drunk without drinking.
Nothing is done with ease.
A tightening of muscles,
He dances with his destiny,
And with Parkinson’s Disease.
Restless legs, shakiness of hands,
His feet do not follow directions.
They attach to the floor.
His expression is blank.
His face is a mask.
His body doesn’t work well anymore.
Yet it is a challenge,
To discover what he can still do.
As he greets each and every day,
Supplements to loosen the knots,
His future is still bright.
Being optimistic is the only way.
by Dan Roberson
There was a day that crashed with thunder,
I knew it didn’t matter what I was under,
The storm would find my hiding place.
While I grabbed my years of treasure,
All the objects that gave me pleasure,
Were whisked away without a trace.
Yet when the sun came out beaming again,
I considered the love that remained within.
I did not see values and all it would cost,
Nor the objects I used to treasure,
Or all the things I forgot to measure.
I saw the faces of dear ones I thought lost.