Love comes.
When you least expects it.
So why run around trying to locate it?
When it slowly spots you.

Notice the many lonely hurt souls in society.
That toss the blame for their lonliness.
Without accepting that they might share in the blame.

A relationship takes compromises.
Only the weak.
Constantly seeking someone to guide them.

And in the end.
Blames everything upon them.

Love comes.
In it own patience way.
But ny then.
When it does finds you.
You soon realize all the mistakes you've made.

The phase patience is a virture.
Rings with honesty and truth.
That love comes.
In it own special way to you.

Cherish it.
When it arrives.
Worship it.
As only you know how?

Just when I said to myself.
I would never open my heart to anyone else.
Here I Go.
Down that road again.

As usual I state love isn't worth it.
Because it seems like so much trouble.
To give and give.
And just feel used.
Or unappreciative.

But here I go.
Down that path again to love.

I have seen my mistakes and learned.
But many times when comfortable and at eased,
That's when I get burned.
How much does love cost?
Cause I'm just lost to understand the price.

When it seems so free.
To have someone saying they love me.

If there was another way to say it;
An easy way for you to understand...
I would not be pouring out these words
In an attempt to paint a picture.
I wouldn't be desperate to bottle
My emotions and thoughts
Into these stained glass letters,
With the tin syntax lid.
Poking holes through the top
Of my head,
So you could see.
Firefly ideas.

I am a photographer of hearts and minds.
The blood red room holds
My negatives.
How can I make them easier for you to see?
The composition so sweet,
The lighting so contrasted with
The shadows hiding the everyday.

What I really want you to do is stop reading.
Go look into the eyes of a lover.
Go hold a child's hand while they sing.
Listen to the wind change.
Feel the pulse of a city.
Cry with old wrinkled skin
For youth and life, and hope.

That is what my poem means.
It is a pulsing picture
Held captive in rhetoric.

The clouds cry for me once again,
expressing what I cannot say.
Helping release, from deep within,
a sadness that seems to invade.

Since it is my eyes run dry,
the clouds cry for me once again.
Falling just for me, from the sky.
Such gentleness upon my skin.

Upon my window, rain peers in,
just stopping by to say hello.
The clouds cry for me once again,
comforting me when I feel low.

So when it is my tears I've shown
and the healing can now begin,
so that I shed tears not alone,
the clouds cry for me once again.

Your scent engulfs my mind.
Leaving traces.
Places.
Faces.
Behind.

My eardrums play a silent tune.
Shadows passing.
Slashing.
Fastening.
Soon.

Your vision—my eye's obsession.
Backward glancing.
Fancying.
Menacing.
Repression.

My touch reclaims time.
Sullen reflection.
Expression.
Rejection.
Borderline.

Although we just met
We share a chemistry
Of hope and serenity
A common bond
That unites us in a positive way
When I look into your eyes
I see a beautiful queen
Full of life and inspiration
Someone who is real within herself
And knows what she wants out of life
They say a good man is hard to find
Well, there's a good man talking to you now
I represent where other men have failed
I know the mountaintop is a rough climb
But with a strong woman behind me
The sky's the limit