If I give you a kiss,promise you'll give it back?

We'll synchronize our hearts,
And play sweet music to the beat.
Our love will be forever,
In our souls and in the sheets.

We'll bump and sway,
To that rhythm in our hearts.
And we'll never faulter,
To where it ends, from where it starts.

We'll listen to that melody,
Coming from inside.
And you'll know in your heart,
I'll always be by your side.

You are a flame inside me
Flickering,
Teasing,
Caressing,
Smoldering.

You are far away
Yet so close
Teetering on the edge of my imagination.

The yearning is the knowing
The mere knowledge of you
That you are existing somewhere
Somewhere my reality can’t touch.

My words spill out of me
Like candy from a piñata
Pages and pages
Poems scattered about like hungry pigeons.

You make me so hungry
So eager to express
To spill my inner self onto empty pages.

You are my muse
My cruel inspiration
The tears staining my pillow.

I am dancing on a cloud
Unnoticed by you
As you live your life
Unaware of mine.

My words are endless
My thoughts knowing no bounds
As I imagine your eyes
Penetrating through me.

You are my fantasy
My never forever
My drug of choice.

You are the fuel that keeps me writing,
Feeling,
Expressing.

You are my special light
Turning on inside me
When all my creativity is turned off.

I want to ravish you
Bite the buttons off your shirt
Loosen your necktie
Drown in your eyes without a life jacket.

You are my muse crush
The smile on my face
The pain in my heart
The hello that never comes
The inevitable goodbye.



© 2014 Stacey Handler

You're my summer crush
Sweet romance
That never existed

I barely know you,
Yet my words just spill out with no filter.
I want you to just see me,
Without a mask and a little off kilter.

Crushes are weird.

everything about you is a poem,
and i'll never quit writing it.
from your raven gloss hair,
to your eyes that hold the colors of forest trees,
with their heads dipped in a halo of warm, golden sunlight.
your skin is winter,
****** snow, and your lips are a timid cherry blossom blooming
to meet mine,
and i'll part them gently;
wrapping ourselves in an eternity of spring,
new beginnings and awakenings.

he is poisonous like cyanide
his voice is like an angels
mixed with the devils
so beautiful and pristine
the way he strums the guitar
like a music machine
pulled me under the sound of his song
letting me drown in between piano keys
he slicks back his hair, with those perfect hands
then plays a rock and roll tune once again

A stylish beauty born of elegance
So full of life, so wondrous to behold
How sweet the perfumed fragrance of romance
Beguiling timid lovers to be bold
The velvet softness of your petal skin
As gentle as the fall of purest snow
Such vibrant colors, where should one begin?
The white, the peach, the red, an endless show
To name a thing is but to give a name
Yet names are naught but locks wrought with no keys
Constricting like a portrait picture frame
That fails to capture aught but what it sees
        Yet in the end I’ll name you I suppose
        The beauty of a perfect English rose

Crushes always start of small and quiet.
Lovers muse of the spark from that first kiss.
The wild, untamed feelings cause a riot.
Salvos of love heard from heavens to abyss.

Love is tame like a zephyr through the trees.
Love radiates more than the sun in June.
The pod of love subsumes only two peas,
And over time, love will always prune.

Love is within a fine ring of crystal.
Love can be found amongst a lowly bar.
Real love can't start in front of a pistol,
But maybe by the strum of a guitar.

At the end of life, heartthrobs have brooded:
That true love can never be concluded.