Tags
becoming, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, remembered to home, sacred intimacy, strength, understanding, wandering, wisdom, wonder
would that I
could love you more
than poets e’er could pen
or dreamers curse
the seasons
come between
arms to overflowing
lips of morning blush
of all I’ve known
no other near the same
awakened
by my sweet caress
breath of winter snow
ashes fall –
to hide the path
again
reason sleeps
where longing
put the bed up long ago
crushed beneath
a silent
let me in
lest touch betray
this faultless fate –
of memories made true
sanctity
denied a sacred vow
a moment cleft
from all the rest
these thoughts
of turning home
another day
ten thousand years
from now
. . .
tornadoday 
beautifully composed!
Oh Such beautiful words still gently fall like rain from your soul, dear friend —no matter how long I have been away from them xxx
And regardless of how long you’re gone, Angela……….always, these arms welcome you home. Thank you! Always only love. ❤
So beautifully romantic! I know no one who writes like you…everyone is a gem to be treasured more than the last! Awesome Bobbie!
Dreamers don’t Curse……., well, not very often !
*****
A curse would be to never dream
Ideas never born
No birth to love’s emotions
A rose without a thorn.
Night without a dream’s caress
Is just another night.
*****
God night, darlin’ girl. Tomorrow holds the promise of another beautiful day…, albeit a cold one ! …..xo
Me