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Robert Andrews Jan 2017
Rain died on the cobble stones.
A warm soul escaping as scented steam,
rising to the fading heavens
of a long Paris eve.

Muted velvet shadows deepen and
soften the edges of everything.
Lovers kisses, whispers and laughter
mingle.

Half drunk
and one more bottle of wine.

Eyes dance and share their dreams.
Across a private table hands meet.
Making love like secret poems of the deaf.

Subtle exchanges of body movement
compliment the symphony
of this tiny world magic.

Breaking bread from a wicker basket.
Full on night descends,
closing its curtain on the day.

Internal prayers to heaven
chase each other,
They wish this night would never end.

Dark red stains on pure linen.
Count the glasses.
Time elapses,
but it's never getting late.

Roosty
Robert Andrews Jan 2017
I'd stare at her across the rows
Filling up my books of prose..
and poetry

I knew the details of her face
No hair was ever out of place
She could make me die...
with just a smile

I knew the scent of her perfume
teasing me across the room
It left me weak....
and aching for her touch

I loved her very much

So I filled my book with secret hearts
I spun in words and called my art
And never let her see a single word...
A love she never heard

And I think about her to this day
And the secret poems I threw away
I wonder if her secret heart...
found love

What if no one took the chance
To ask the Princess to the dance
Then there'd never be a secret King...
to make her sing

Maybe she just stayed alone
I guess I'll never really know
Didn't take the chance, couldn't dance
Just lived inside my..
paper poem romance

And did she smile for someone else
No longer sitting on the shelf
or did she fill up books of...
poetry

Writing in her room alone
All her little secret poems
About a king who looked..
a lot like me

But I never asked so I've never seen
How I looked in all her dreams
or even if there was a book...
for me

So I hope she smiled and found her love
I hope some Prince was brave enough
I hope she never....
threw her poems away

But to this day.. I don't know
All my poems afraid to show
In case they died cause she said "no"...
Still I'm alone
and they've been thrown away

Roosty
Robert Andrews Jan 2017
When I hold you
Can I unfold you
find the pristine pages in your heart
and if what is there is origami
I'll arrange it like the finest art
Silent swans will learn to dance
Blue paper swallows will sing at last
if you only take the chance,..
to let them fly away
And the lotus blossoms you've created
scent a million different pages
Where I carefully write my lines
on every petal
one word at a time

Roosty
Robert Andrews Jan 2017
I love her wild abandon
So many untamed horses
Fenceless and uncorralled

For a while I ran with her
Looking to catch her eye
She just ran away
Trailing laughter

I heard her distant drumbeats
With their sacred rhythms
Deep into the earth
And deep into my soul

I clutch and grasp
Trying to capture
Midnight thistle down
That dances
On the warm,  invisible, breeze

And where shall it land
When it's slipped from my hand
Taking with it
All my secret dreams

.....And I laugh
They always dance away
But I am content....

For the briefest moment
I lived among the footfalls
Wondering where the thistle down had gone

Silently.....silently
Almost unnoticed

It came to rest
Amidst the drumbeats.....

Inside my heart


Roosty
Robert Andrews Jan 2017
when my eyes were bright and pin point sharp
I threaded needles in the dark
I could walk into the eye
never touching either side

Now I am an older man
careful threading of the eye
I don't believe the needle shrank
Just my belief in the needles size
Roosty

— The End —