Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
se-reimerPoems
~ the true art of loving is to never stop touching! touching, holding, caressing, stroking... such is the nature of love's connection; a twine intertwined through touch, the stringing, the ********* the fingers that clasp, that reach out to grasp; oh marvelous, tenderest touch! why is it that any of us stop? would we, could we, if we really knew? that touch was a gift one of the few that gifts immortality, gives liberality; indeed, would we ever, or never stop touching? and God could only know why we would ever ask to be left alone, cold as a stone, the untouchable we; how could we deny that one, that only who for our heart longs truest mate of our soul. babies need it, toddlers do it, children want it, teens use it, young ones wish it, lovers gift it, mid-lifers pine and seniors return to it... there is never a stage or a cycle of life where we should or ever could cease to be needing it ever stop touching or being touched. for touch is love's connection, the umbilical chord, a neuron cable, the neutron bundle, oh blanket of hope... it feeds us, a life line, an air line that needs us; a love line to the divine that renews us, and will inevitably, ultimately, eventually, totally hold us, as we walk the path through, eternity past, present and what is to come! for touch... indivisible from love, and love never dies; love never ceases! yes, the true art of touching is to never stop loving! ~ *post script. we watched so many who loved stop touching through the years and then wonder what happened as embers once hot grew cold. touch is a gift, to be shared and not hoarded!*
0
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
touching
~ the true art of loving is to never stop touching! touching, holding, caressing, stroking... such is the nature of love's connection; a twine intertwined through touch, the stringing, the ********* the fingers that clasp, that reach out to grasp; oh marvelous, tenderest touch! why is it that any of us stop? would we, could we, if we really knew? that touch was a gift one of the few that gifts immortality, gives liberality; indeed, would we ever, or never stop touching? and God could only know why we would ever ask to be left alone, cold as a stone, the untouchable we; how could we deny that one, that only who for our heart longs truest mate of our soul. babies need it, toddlers do it, children want it, teens use it, young ones wish it, lovers gift it, mid-lifers pine and seniors return to it... there is never a stage or a cycle of life where we should or ever could cease to be needing it ever stop touching or being touched. for touch is love's connection, the umbilical chord, a neuron cable, the neutron bundle, oh blanket of hope... it feeds us, a life line, an air line that needs us; a love line to the divine that renews us, and will inevitably, ultimately, eventually, totally hold us, as we walk the path through, eternity past, present and what is to come! for touch... indivisible from love, and love never dies; love never ceases! yes, the true art of touching is to never stop loving! ~ *post script. we watched so many who loved stop touching through the years and then wonder what happened as embers once hot grew cold. touch is a gift, to be shared and not hoarded!*
se-reimer
Written by
se-reimer
American
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem