The poignancy of love,

the high, the low,

the ebb and flow of emotion

....torture & delight in one.

And is  it yet enough,

the raptured heights of love?

when love would break your heart

with it's coy, precocious arts.


Oft hope will soar you high

and fly with you for miles,

then drop you like a stone

all bruised and so forlorn

and then who is to blame,

but your own foolish, lame,

deceitful heart?

Life alters in one moment

from health to sickness,

from life to death

but never back again.

No foresight or knowledge

can predict, or prepare us for what is to come...

so we live on the edge of promise

on the cusp of doom,

trying not to lean too far in one direction

or another,

and tip the scales

into the uncertainty

of which we constantly live in fear.

Maybe there is only one real shot at love, life, happiness?

& if you miss it the first time,

the arrow no longer ever flies straight,

but must transverse a maze that would confound the gods

to come anywhere near hitting a mark again.

What if my aim is not that good,

my sight too short,

or my arm not that strong...

where will that arrow land?

Will you love me...?

not with flowery phrases or soaring sonnets

but with a timely word of hope on a dark day?

Will you love me...?

not with grandiose gifts and gestures

but with your companionship and well-timed cold water in the heat?

Will you love me,

not with promises of eternal bliss,

but with the consistency of your presence with each new day

and a hand on my back on the long, hard road?

Embrace the twinge of hurt

attached to the deeper pain

which must painstakingly be drawn to the surface

in order to be removed

When did those three little words become
an obligation you seek to avoid?

Or 'I miss you' a thorn that rankles in your side?

My sincere love & desire just another demand on your already stressful day?

I could take it all back
or give it to another,
but I seem to have lost all the receipts,

and there really is no one else...