Posted by: SPT | March 17, 2013

Love Poetry

She doesn’t want to talk.

My heart, wanting to communicate, feels iron wrought.

I want to connect with her internally,
But externally she’s shot.

Full with desire, on most days my heart sees true.
But, this observation is more than a clue:
Adding distance shouldn’t translate to a feeling so blue.

Understand, I ask myself, and be patient,
For life is complex and misunderstood.

Even when she seems so far,
Know in my heart, I should

She’s a blink of an eye away,
And embedded in my heart for good.

I act upon my heart’s desires,
And I chase after my dreams.

Whether that love sprouts and blossoms into a tree,
And whether that passion has leaves in the breeze,
Should never matter to me.

If this moment moves me
To root and plant my feet
Or if it lets my mind free

Than there’s only one way to describe
The way I’m feeling: Love poetry.

I keep writing (and typing)
And count the moments until again we meet.


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