Tag: writing

She Went Away

shewentaway on justruminating men's blogThe angel is gone
she went away
will she return
again some day?

Verse rang true
touched my heart
lady grace right
from the start.

Penned and painted
such loveliness
her impressions of
life I do miss.

She kept me glad
and full of glee
the love has gone
with her poetry.

But still I hear
her gentle sighs
they whisper through
the darkened skies.

The angel has gone
she went away
I hope she returns
to me some day.

Exhausted

exhausted on justruminatinga men's blog

I have hushed voices in my head
they say the things I’ve always said
they echo loudly thus keeping me
from finding my own calm poetry.

I need respite from all of this
can’t even find my happiness
I know he’s crying hiding pain
haunting me again and again.

Torturing me they suffocate
my joy I’ve lost and subjugate
a thousand voices so unclear
escaping reality and their fear.

A few sweet things keep me sane
I return to them again and again
to drink their joy and to taste
the essence of them but in haste.

Fearing majesty just might go
and back to hell my soul to sow
the thoughts that fuel my misery
swallow me whole indiscriminately.

I have these voices in my head
from all the things I’ve ever said
funny though there does still reign
joyous feelings in my heart remain.

Clean Loving

My nakedness
sways as
your wonderful
touch spills
over me.

You and I
commingle
my soreness
gone
you run along
my back
so warmly.

and wash away
all my misery
my angst
my fatigue
washing clean
the
dirty day
you…
HEY!
WHO FLUSHED
THE TOILET?
I’M IN THE
SHOWER!!

Lay With Me

laywithme

Lay with me
under the stars
on the grass
behind the willows.

Whisper to me
tell me whys
share your truth
bare your soul.

Come to me
raw with need
hot with desire
expose your yearning.

I’ll hold you
near to me
inside of me
become your solace.

Lay with me
under the sky
on the ground
you are free.

Sonnet Of Love II

 

sonnet3 on justruminating mens blog

As the moon drifts and quiet as you lie
and howl of winter slips by the door
drift my sweet lady, do sleep and do sigh
writing such words, from my heart they do pour!
Fade and keep warm in the dark of your bed
swift will I share tender scent of your skin–
lilies compare not, through fields though they spread
to your smell and your charm source of my sin.
So ponder your dreams and when you awake
fresh as the new fallen snow in the dell
look South to my window, far past the lake
I sit here and write, of you and do tell:
My words are not meant for others to see
They worship your grace and your majesty.