You out of nowhere, into my lap,
out of darkness where I was dancing,
Me drunk in worries, lost in hopes;
you alone in fears, spirit panting
for salvation from loneliness.
Your eyes tender in the lights,
your body smooth in the dance,
beckoning over to me,
smiling, wondering, silent, paradise
touched me wing of an angel
smiled down on me God, the angels,
smiled up at me you,
smiled back, asked you, touched you
touched me, laughed, sighed relief,
squeezed your hand, squeezed mine,
knew you are the one,
knew you are the one.
Lime-flavored lady bug
Celtic jester rhyme,
23 May be your lucky number;
"1963, 1975 . . . luckiest of all signs . . . ."
we breathe, sigh,
Luckiest of all signs,
we will never come apart,
quashed is the loneliness in our hearts
because we're together,
green and sweet and love together,
young and laugh and cry together,
tease the cat--wear black together,
forever, two Rabbits together
Rescued rescued from pasts so skewed
by hopes and dreams and lies from others.
Hurt tears down our cheeks,
1, 2, 3 by the wayside,
all by the wayside with our hearts.
Waiting waiting for each other,
but never knew it (but we did).
In an oven simmering,
juices flowing, tastes developing,
two persons growing states of perfection for each other,
promising everything were former lovers,
never, never producing, ever;
jading us, fading us
until we were nearly gone from view,
and so cynical to withdraw into the salt that we both crave,
the salt of tears, the salt in our wounds,
but we muddled through . . . .
So fortunate I am to have the face
of that man you fancied from a Chinese beach.
Might I have never caught your eye but for him?
Memories you collect in the albums of your eyes,
green eyes, old eyes in such a young face,
tender, passionate, and full of grace,
which frame the vessel we set sail on
into waters clear, still with peace,
just you and I, together and strong,
no need for wind to push us along,
and the past no longer can keep us stalled.
Peace steers our ship, dips the oars for us.
Our task is each other from now on.
And this business of love--dangerous.
This love business--deadly,
People die from broken hearts;
And our initials, same as Romeo's & Juliet's,
except reverse--yours R, mine J;
And what there is in a name!
"Marry a Sheep or Boar . . . ."
says the old Chinese Zodiac to us Rabbits.
Your name, ancient Hebrew female "sheep."
Ancient name, ancient eyes, brand-new life
for us to gain.
Again and again and all for us.
"God's Peace" my name
for you, for us forever more
for love to die for
again and again and again.
Paradise for us together.
Me the first one you've ever told you love.
You the last I ever;
We the alpha and omega of love.
And to me should feel so unsure,
but somehow I know you do,
though you have nothing to compare to,
your body and face tell me,
the passion serious you well know
me always in the corner of your eye me.
You always in the center of mine.
Always in the center of life now,
you with your gazes and caresses,
sweet innocent looks and moods and crazes,
driving me crazy with such insight
and the need to hold you at the end of the day,
to love you until the end of our days;
To make you know how important you are to me.
Mushy, sappy, but just to know!
A little afraid of what's been given to us me.
I've known this feeling before:
My heart was ripped apart
and it took half a decade to heal.
My first love filled me with hope.
So young, I could never have known
just how fragile we all are
and how even more fragile is a precious love.
Shocked, betrayed, chest just a big hole.
Confused, dismayed, life just a big sore.
For years running away from the pain,
maybe hurting others, too,
just trying to survive and live again.
And now there is you
and another chance at true love.
Older, kinder, I now have half a chance
to preserve this so to be as it should,
us together, my beloved, with time on our side
because there's nothing else except us.
You wise beyond your years fill me with hope.
Once again hope, once again, once again.
Delicious taste your eyes of hope,
hear your comforting words of love,
touch your breath my face and soul,
you my strength to carry on because
I love you.
But when we're apart,
you gone, me alone,
or me gone, you out on your own,
a void somewhere in me now resides
closes down, catches up, dims the light
until I be just a ghost with no haunt nor home,
spirit wandering about still as a coma,
the long, cold winter in which we met returns,
me needing to see your face, touch your hand,
to relieve the depletion of life,
the half-empty state I find myself in
needing to be whole again,
to breathe again, move again, with you again
needing to be whole in the summertime that only comes
Your skin, my skin,
our lives our sustenance,
can't let go, won't let go,
hungry still for your warmth
and depth of us together.
All I ever want or need or pray for
has landed in my heart.
The Claddagh ring God sees I now wear,
only to be replaced by a higher sort one day,
as it is true what you intuitively say,
that only temporary is pain,
necessary fact of life;
the pinch that lets us know we're alive,
feeling, living, loving, breathing;
we both once lonely, broken hearts dead and empty,
we feeling a different kind of pain
that seemed it might never go away,
not the pain of flesh, but of the spirit,
or perhaps just a little or a lot of both.
And now time and space will continue to fold
around us forever more, that particular misery gone,
like well-fitting clothes on our naked souls
keeping us dry and warm from life's elements,
sick elements, lonely desperate elements!
God keep us warm and dry from those. Amen.