Forty minutes at a station
Lasting an eternity
As I waited in anticipation
You a beautiful vision
Fulfilling our dreams of passion

Forty minutes at a station
Lasting an eternity
You arrived walking casually
Breezy and in a hurry
You stopped for me indifferently

Forty minutes at a station
Felt like an eternity
You told me the time of your departure
And an e mail to your employer
And  we had limited time together

Forty minutes at a station
Felt like an eternity
I wondered why you loved me
My mind's eye was forcing me to see
My love had been blind to your falsity

Forty minutes at a station
Was never an eternity
It was short and uninspiring
You were detached and unengaging
My love for you was withering

Forty minutes at a station
A lifetime of an education

In the hour of my retreat
My mind gives way to memories
Forcing your smile onto me
Forcing your passions to flow freely
Forcing my captured heart to flee

In the hour of my despair
My mind churns away at memories
I resist your smile my lover
I resist your passions over and over
I resist my heart and take cover

In the hour of my surrender
My mind thrives on memories
I long for your smile my lovely
I long for your warmth so desperately
I long for your love in eternity

In the hour of my hope
My mind plays tricks on me
You retreat from other women
You despair as your heart is frozen
You surrender to love me once again

In the hour of my surrender
Won't you wait for me forever?

In the turbulence of a Storm
My heart rests upon a Rock
In a place where the grass is long
Swaying  passively to a breeze
In a place where the earth is warm
Lit eternally by a furnace
In a place where a  stoic Rock
Submits to its desires for me
In a place where the frozen rain
Melts away in an instant
Dissolving the hovering myths of pain
To free my lonely heart yet again

This is a place for love to grow
Forever, together and more

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f