untitled love

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    untitled love

     so answer me this...
    do you not recognize a heart behind thorns?
    did you think I wouldn't try your patience?
    what would it say about me
    if I were to carelessly hand myself over?
    I do not want love like a drug
    where I feel that I can't function without it
    I need not advertisement to prove I can love
    I'm but a woman in a forest rarily seen
    with a whole different language altogether
    spotting heart sucking leeches from the tree tops
    love addicts needing another fix from a new source
    what is this kind of love?
    and why would this be something you'd offer me?
    I'd rather stay camouflaged behind leaves
    hoping to be overlooked and passed by quickly
    my privacy nurtured by my strength in common sense
    I am patient enough to wait for the real thing
    I know what it looks like
    I know what it smells like
    I know what it tastes like
    I know its sound
    and I will touch it beautifully when it arrives
    but until then
    I'll be spot checking lemons




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    Smurf1 commented on untitled love

    07-18-2009

    Nicely Written! Hathor4Wine! Passionate brush strokes or red, with delightful waves of white, with gold, and blue, spiraling out of control into a submissive calm; similar to the colorful images of dancing in my mine, a slow dance a dance of love…. Heart, mind, body, and soul! I’m not only one with you I become you, as you are with me…. And life conceives us both like new worlds creating carnations’ beautiful and morning rose’s dripping dew surrounded by wild orchids. My beautiful wife holding my hand on the mountain top, over looking a rainbow sunset on a beautiful island oasis, within your deepest thoughts and my chest press tightly against your bosom’s, takes my breath away, leaving a sweet taste of perspiration on my lips. For you are my Earth, my Fire, my Air, and my Sun, like two lovers under the ski of Amune, you become my Egypt, and my Rah. I’ am lost in your love…. And I’m drifting threw currents of rushing rivers and waterfalls with you. I can’t seem to stop drowning in my own lust for you, I say to my self only a fool would want to be rescued from a death so merciful, the Lord count’s do it better himself ….!!!
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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Hathor4Wine’s Poems (91)

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