“Bare and true”
Bare and true
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Few times in a life. We open up to another and show them the real person.
She was a noble beauty and she hushed me with her grace.
In the stillness of the warm Summer night, we were left in a standstill of should I stay or should I go? Should we journey to new and unknown places? Allow old love to decay and old celestial fires to be forgotten.
I told her. Love is dead to me and dreams of youth twisted and I was left behind and alone.
She smiled and she told me. Bare and true.
We must stand bare and be willing. Be true to the hungry heart.
Shed the dead skin of hopeless love and be selfish. Lavish in old hope and dreams.
We must learn what love should be.
Love is everything. Everything is love.
I told her love is just a mirage.
Words to make us want luscious dreams and drink in passion till we are drunk in blindness. The chaos of love leave us with the aroma of sweet dreams and perfect ending. Can we compose this perfect piece?
She gave me a sad look and she whispered. If you don’t request a dance or don’t attempt a kiss. If we don’t open the door with a smile and kind words. What is left? Dying eyes and love decay leave only with dead things and darkness. Better to attempt the dance and taste the kiss. Love comes to those who seek calm and peace. Not silent and loneliness.
She came to me. Wrapped her arms around me and she said. We will be okay. The night is young and the moon is bright. Let’s dance to the light of the Summer moon and drink the sweet red wine. The German Summer is fair and tempting. Maybe we can kindle some hope by the light of the stars.
Coyote/John Castellenas
👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾.
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So true, be true to the hungry heart. Wonderful.
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Thank you Liz. I appreciate the comment.
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She’s a rare beautiful girl swathed in purple
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She was. Thank you for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.
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She puts most to shame with her natural beauty, they don’t make em like that anymore
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Old days. People showed real face.
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Yes! That is it!
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Very sweet.
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Thank you for reading and the comment. A old poem and a old memory.
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Nothing wrong with that
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