When we start a relationship with someone new we think to ourselves that this will be It, the One, my Romeo. And then we watched the cookie crumble. So I wrote a short poem about it.
We let our every breath drown into the raging sea
the bitter strife surpassed the hopes and dreams we shared
we let the silly pride and stubborn conceit
destroy what we built through the years
though my heart fierce and strong
will only hold so much grief and misery until it burst
into million pieces
I watched as this cookie of a relationship crumbled into its death
Another hectic day before the year ends. Deadlines to meet, people to see and places to go, can’t seem to do everything in a week.
I am not a serial complainer, but somehow today I just have to vent out. Looking forward to the weekend when I get to sit and catch up on reading and writing. Hopefully.
The sting of your words cut deeper than winter’s wrath
my heart is bruised but my soul is wounded…forever
Your mystifying look, I find it somehow irresistible. The depth in your eyes leaves an impression of a tranquil soul.
I’ve got no rhythm today
simply lost and confused
couldn’t find my way
feeling like
I’m walking in a dark unfamiliar hallway
I feel like I don’t belong here
It was put aside
tucked away
in a deep quiet place
it was ignored
eyes
blinded by
daily chores and troubles
but…
Love…is always waiting patiently
to be heard
to be felt
deep in our hearts
and soul
even after forever
even after time
I like the sunlight in the Spring
the joy and delight it brings
the hum of birds singing on top of an apple tree
how they tell you to stop and see
how wonderful this world can be
Making pancakes with him, such a fun activity most weekends he is here. Today, particularly he chose to be extra critical of my methods in making the batter. As if there are other methods to do a pancake batter. I rolled my eyes and continued with the batter while waiting for the pan to heat up.
Slightly annoyed, I poured the batter in the pan and as I placed the mixing bowl back on the counter, I felt his arms encircled my waist and felt soft sensual kisses behind my neck.
I smiled and just melted in his arms. I love the way he riles me up with his unusual way of getting to me.
Now, if I can only make him do the dishes without telling him tree times, It would be a perfect Sunday.
What we were was some pages in a rough draft that never made it through your love story. Maybe my part wasn’t good enough to make it to the pages of your book.
Over a cup of coffee 