Te amo, te amo porque ya no sé que más hacer contigo, te he odiado hasta el punto en el que te he desterrado de mís líneas y mis versos, te he extrañado lo suficiente como para estar dispuesto a equivocarme de nuevas maneras a lado tuyo y siempre término amándote.

I dance on the edge
Always taking a chance
Longing for just a little romance
I want you, you don’t want me
That’s just how it’s going to be
You won’t get involved
Yet you say that you care
I feel like a kid
It just isn’t fair!!
I must move on
And dance some more
Waiting for my true love
To show up at my door
Come in, it’s open…

In the poet’s mind
Are a thousand whirlwinds
Of thoughts.
Distinct, creative, powerful-
Thoughts that can change
Your perception of
All there is.

In the poet’s mind
There is love – fierce love.
Love that will crush you-
Hold you tight, so tight
You have no room for
Anything but love.
Love, that’ll make you glow.

In the poet’s mind
There is as tender a care
As the soft clouds on an Autumn morn.
Care that will gently kiss
Your eyes and plant in them
Visions, dreams, fantasies.
Care, that’ll lift you.

In the poet’s mind
There is forgiveness
So thorough, it will put you
To shame.
Forgiveness so intensely intended
To forgive that
It’ll set you free.

In the poet’s mind
There is passion- edgy, fulfilling.
Passion that’ll keep you on your toes.
Such passion brimming, overflowing,
Shameless, intoxicating.
Passion so vivid, so real
It makes it almost too easy to let go.

In the poet’s mind
A bird brings hope,
Winds bring change,
Rains bring memories,
Moonshine brings horror,
Snow brings dreams,
And you-
You bring poetry (life).

Dear dear one. That august farewell made me think about you again, between hasty green meadows and wild stubborn red roses.
They cry for your love.
For your touch.
For your grace.
I miss your touch.
I miss your taste.
I miss your smell.
Your smell of old novels.


I could read every chapter of yours. Oh how abundant of your sadness wept. When Jesus carried his noble men in his arms. I would divide waters and bring blood to land if not for our love. your love. my love. Hath i cry !
Stubborn through my veins!
Bring me love!
Bring me an angel without wings!
So that she may not fly away from me.

I read in an old novel of mine. When Christopher cut Jaden's arm for the love of his maiden. i would cut my own for yours.
Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours.
Clink to the cup of joy.
Oh blessed daughter of Mary
Bless me with your love.
I smell old novels
But your smell is lovely enough.