You ask me,
Do I miss you?
How can I miss you?
You are always with me,
Your face behind my eyes,
Your soul sleeping in my heart,
The essence of you dances for me,
Sinuous curves shimmy within shadows.

You ask me,
Do I love you?
You should be asking,
How much you love me?
Then measure that feeling,
Holding it tightly deep inside,
Knowing that I feel just the same,
With every single fibre of my being.

You ask me,
Do I miss you?
Perhaps, I might sigh,
The very truth, though,
Is that I miss you terribly,
Is that part of me aches for you,
Though we are intrinsically entwined,
Sometimes, such closeness is not enough.

You ask me,
Do I love you?
Do you need to ask?
I live and breathe you,
As you live and breathe me,
Your roads lead to me, woman,
I am by your side, holding your hand,
One day, we will surely arrive together.

You ask me,
Do I miss you?
Everyday baby,
Never doubt it is so,
My pain is like your own,
Insomnia, numbing, yearning,
Hiding tears in the soft darkness,
But knowing, we will be free, one day.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

help me find the paper
with the poem i need
it's a simple piece of paper
with a poem that must be freed
i am asking for my readers
not for want or greed
help me find the paper
and what i write...you'll read

right now, there's nothing on it
it's as empty as can be
i looked inside my closet
and no paper did i see
i found one under a bonnet
but, it wasn't one for me
the missing poem might be a sonnet
can't you help me find it please

the words i have aren't in my head
it's the paper brings them out
until the pen hits paper
i don't know what it's about
once the poem is finished
i can then stand up and shout
i found the piece of paper
this is the one.....no doubt

help me find the paper
with the poem i need
it's a simple piece of paper
with a poem that must be freed
i am asking for my readers
not for want or greed
help me find the paper
and what i write...you'll read

The day is near when your happiness will burn,
Engulfed it will turn it black, not as before never
Will it grow back. As the days move on sorrow
Replaces that now in black.

Your joy will be ashes in your hands, blown in to
The wind, it was never yours to give, now no others
Will benefit, as the winds have hidden it changing
Every moment never to let you get it back.

Love was the last, the hardest to take, but under
Foot buried in lava, over time melting the feeling
That once resided, now after time the heart is weak,
And love has left this ash filled heart it as suffocated,
Not a breath of love flowed back.

A poets heart dead
Words uttered dread
A soul walking aimless
Seeking solace blameless
Yet the dream return
As a movie rerun
Who doth he fool
Tears where a tool
Cold his heart cannot be
Yet none doth see
A lifeless beast of passion
Not committed to treason
Yet the poet killed
Worldly lustre filled
For a poets heart submit to one
His words still dead and gone
Yet rhyme will he
Till the grave to be