Love Letter #43: Finding You

I happened upon your syllables,
between pages of love poetry,
drew hearts around the letters
of your name, following mine
and filled myself

with a new perspective.

I watched a flirtatious moon
and its surrounding stars
dance a delicate finale,
blue as midnight,

like the dreams formulating
in my head

and as the sun rose,
like a swirling of skirts,
all of the faded wildflowers
I walked past before,
bloomed at my feet,

pink as these blushed cheeks
that rose and fell
for you.



Syllable Envy

I love makeup
just like any other girl,
pink lip pouts; sultry,
smokey-eyed glances,

but behind the glitter,
adjectives sway,
pirouetting into stanzas

as metaphor turns his head,
alliteration catches the eye.

Some guys adore legs
sashaying down the runway,
skirt swirling hello
to adoring onlookers,

but most men know,
there’s nothing
quite so alluring

as a lady
behind a typewriter.



Will waves wash away our names

scribbled in beaches of San Josef ?


White sand couldn’t cover your love

expressed in moonlit walks

and sand dollar dreams, peeking

from shining gems of soul.


Keep me in your light

with kisses, sweet;

close caresses when nights are long

and time is short. Love me

when stars fade into morning

carrying our dreams

into daylight muse.


Touch my face like you always have

and speak of Italy,

of gondola rides in Venice

and strolls through Paris in the rain,

without an umbrella.


Move with me through shadowed spaces

with no fear of change, loss, or indifference.


Let them dispute the idea of eternal love;


just hold my hand

and prove the whole damn world wrong.