Searching in theory for relativity,
thoughts of you expanding constantly.
Feelings’ compounding exponentially,
your smile and warmth is my felicity.
With every kiss sparking electricity,
stars align lighting our intensity.
Our formula’s blending unequivocally,
biologically chemistry’s evolutionary.
Your infinite hues color a poet’s eccentricity,
soundly proving the love of you and me.
Future’s ensured when the memorable made.
Bonded in eternity masterpieces don’t fade.
Yet loves pass, forever to be missed.
Tomorrows will come, forever kissed.
Hearts beat to dream anew.
A renaissance begun, there I flew.
Quills soar on a canvas bright.
Hand in hand we discover flight.
She’s a cherub’s smile on a face aglow.
This lady in waiting waits no more to know.
My love of her paints a sight to gaze.
Her love of me sets my soul ablaze.
Though errors burn, wheels turn and theories churn.
Creators learn bodies yearn and lovers earn.
Perspectives meeting clarity’s found.
Illusions disappear when love’s all around.
The sun forges to sharpen our sights.
Stars observed observe our shimmering nights.
We’ll build our castle high with arches strong.
Our suppers last as the day is long.
Here the sonnet and song never ends.
Painted in today time suspends.
For the Mona Lisa you are to me.
And for you, I am your da Vinci.
To be oil and water is to never mix.
When hearts beat out of sync the bond never sticks.
To meld fire with ice, one’s sure to melt.
Yet when chemistry is easy positive’s surely felt.
Forces of nature,
like myself, follow paths of
the least resistance.
Theologians seek the heavens,
Astronomers the stars above.
Philosophers seek the meaning of life,
Poets seek only love.
The longest day’s here.
The sun’s warm and the night short.
Cold hearts have no place.
A Bushel of Pecks
Chemistry is the
solution to inertness
Fanatical & Finesse
require zealots but not zeal
Do soul mates exist?
Do hearts and minds spark when kissed?
Yes and more when missed.
Think About It
Mind over matter
is absurd when the world’s weight
is on your shoulders.
It’s not easy street
with bumps and stops, though poets
get the write of way.