It’s True, It’s True

Our day apart has yet to start,
already I’m missing you.
I woke at dawn with a stretch and yawn,
my morning looking blue.
~
Alone I sit, reminiscing a bit,
thinking of the things we do.
We talk and smile and hug a while,
then kiss an hour or two.
~
My watch I spy with a longing eye,
wishing this day was through.
The feelings clear that you’re my dear,
you make each minute new.
~
Awake I dream a subconscious stream,
my world comes in view.
Silently I sing of the joy you bring,
thankful our love is true.

~*~
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A Hint of Poetry

There’s poetry for hate and for love.
There are poems for hawks and the dove.
Some are short, some quite long,
some add music and make a song.
~
There are poems that are happy but many are sad.
There’s poetry that’s good while none really bad.
Some poems rhyme and others not,
some just a little, some rhymesalot.
~
There’s effort made to make you smile.
There are jokes thrown in once in a while.
Sometimes yes and sometimes no,
some get posted and others go.
~
There’s poetry that’s biographical.
There are funny poems but this one laughable.
Someday I’ll write a book for print,
someday when I get a hint.

~*~
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Always Time

The clouds clearing, the sun is felt.
My icy heart has begun to melt.
Love has warmed, time to grow.
A kiss awaits this I know.
~
My future slumbers, I quietly rise.
Starlight twinkles in my eyes.
The mirror greets a smiling face.
The fog’s lifted without a trace.
~
Her day will start with a hug.
She’ll pull me closer, nice and snug.
A plan we’ll make for our day.
But in this moment we’ll always stay.

~*~
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Love and Death, Life and Breath

The universe dark when afraid,
atoms pulse and bonds made.
The voice within will rise and fall,
a poet’s obsession is defining all.
~
Heartbeats heard of passerby,
all’s to feel or question why.
Understood or criticized,
words writ, spoken or surmised.
~
Eye’s see truth and tell no lies,
somewhere, always are bright blue skies.
To write of life is to ponder death.
To be loved is sharing breath.

~*~
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