Tales of Love # 29

OH TO FEEL LOVES EXQUISITE ACHE

Oh to feel loves exquisite ache
To feel that desperate longing
Experiencing that naked want
Of being with them again, and
Feeling so alive in the torment
While craving the next fix
Of that heady foaming brew
Which will satisfy the longing
And quench the thirst of desire.
And when that significant soul
Who holds my captive heart,
Is but a kiss and caress away
I am dragged from sorrows
Unfathomable despairing depths
And bitter anguish evaporates
Like dew under the morning sun
Until euphoria fills every pore
And in that perfect ecstasy
That blissful state of love
I remain until I am once again
Alone with my desperate longing

HAIR OF HENNA

Hair of Henna
Falls untamed
Over pale flesh
Stark in contrast
Like a crimson rose
Against bridal white

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (Rewrite)

Harry's mind wandered
As he wended his way
Through crowded streets
To a special someone
Anna was his new love
And he would see her that night
As he hurried along
He could smell her hair
Feel the softness of her skin
He could even taste her
And he longed for her
As he remembered
Her smile, her kiss
Her writhing body
Then Harry stepped off the curb
Oblivious to the danger
And was struck
By a car unseen
Tossing him like a rag doll
Depositing him unceremoniously
Between car and gutter

His body lay broken
And bleeding
Where it came to rest
On the unforgiving street
And the last image in his mind
Was not the killer car
But Anna his new love
As his life ebbed away
His heart beat its last
The paramedic's best efforts
Were to no avail

A moment's carelessness
Had cost a young life
And his heart beat no more
In his broken body
But would beat once more
In another's chest
And reanimate
To bring new hope
To rekindle another's existence
Bringing a new beginning for Sally
Who, like a phoenix
Rises from the ashes
Of her frailty at the price
Of another families grief

THE OLD RUSTIC STILE

The old rustic stile
At the end of the lane
Still stands like a memorial
Marking that special place
Where the fates conspired
That our souls should meet
Though on that day
We purposely trod opposing paths
But met at that rustic spot
And to help you cross
I took hold of your hand,
Small and silken soft
Guiding you safely to my side
Where you stood on terra firma
And despite the presence
Of our companions
We were to all intents
Quite alone as we stood
Hand in hand and in the moment
When hand touched hand
We at once beheld
Our lives from that point on
Would be forever altered
Our future journeys
Would be as fellow travellers
And we were content
With a shared destiny

The old rustic stile
At the end of the lane
Stands like a monument
Marking the place of alteration
A significant place
A spiritual place
A place often revisited
And on such sojourns
We find romantic renewal
As the energizing memory
Of that special moment
Of love at first sight
Assails our senses
Essentially invigorating
Like imbibing the waters
From the fountain of youth
And our hearts once again
Resound with joyousness
Sweet moments of romance
Those excited tingles
Of loves first passion
When hearts beat faster
And desire courses
Through every fibre
The thrill of blossoming love
Adding to the strata
Of our love, laid down
Through all our years together
So by returning to the place
Of loves wondrous inception
We keep our love alive
And in equal measure
Love returns the favour