For years I have swam in shit and I didn’t care. I dodged the longing, belonging and needy want of love. I learn love is fair. In the end. Winners and losers find the same dead-end.
The pretty girl wanting eyes looked into my eyes. Searching for the salvation of perfect kiss and embrace. I wrote a poem for her. Just honest words to smooth the way to an unrequited love.
Lace, silk sheets and long night. Make the lovers wish and hold out.
Dark is the night when lonely people confuse lust for love.
Body needs make fear of fleeing love invisible.
The sweet hard kiss tasted like stale whiskey and old wine.
Unkempt love must find mutual place and need.
You are an ornament of beauty. A treasure for a wise man.
Dead heart and hope cannot be healed by the kiss of Iodine cure.
The dead never can rise again. Love arising. Just myth and tale for the desperate.
The pretty girl smiled. Her eyes like a wild cat staring down wanted prey. She told me. Pretty words dear Poet, meaningless to a dancing-girl who know the truth. Sacred love is alluring and sweet, but amidst the frailness of living. We take what we need. I have heard sweet song of love and great promises. Now I accept rustic words and just enough. Promises not made, cannot be broken. We must dig deep into the well of hope and sweetness. Find safety and some place of comfort to rest and feel a warm body near. She kissed my face and neck. Held me tightly.
I have loved this woman for a long time. A different kind of love. I watched her dance for years and we became friends. I loved her long legs, long auburn hair and perfect body. I was her ride home and safe place to land. Today her hazel eyes were needy. I told her. Dear Kathy. I’m humble by your words. I know woman control all things. If you need me, I’m here, I will follow you to unknown place.
She took my hand and we went to open dance floor in the Belton, Texas and I held her close. She stirred hope and laughter with her voice and pretty smile. She whispered to my wanting ear. This is life Johnnie. We must dispose of the past leaving the echos of disappointment behind. In the midnight hour, I want you to drink of me. Make me feel needed, like I’m the only one you need.
I kissed her long and sweet and I whispered. You are the only one my love.