I miss the thought
Of having someone by my side
At least with him
I could hold a fantasy close
A world in which we loved truly
Unconditionally
Without physical limits

Now there is only cold
And the linger scent
Of sweat
Staining my bed
I want a friend
To come and help me
Rinse it all away
Not to fix me
Or make me whole
But to help me find myself
To love myself
While they fall in love
With them

............ morning

I say this sincerely and from the bottom of my heart, you are incredible, fascinating, and impressive

Ahhh, thanks JC.
I’m flattered you think so because I feel quite ordinary.

You are the most extraordinary and exotic orchid in the jungle

And then you say stuff like that, that makes me wonder what you wrote before is true.

I don’t understand

That is so untrue, that it makes me wonder about your previous sincere comment

It is true in my heart and soul, please never ever doubt it, accept the compliment, deeply and fully !!!



............ next morning

I accept the first one. 

Baby Girl, what I write about you, is inspired by you, it is what i see and feel, please believe and  accept the compliments unconditionally, as I don’t say what is on my heart casually


............ next morning

Good morning Sleeping Beauty, how is the fairest flower in the forest this morning

This flower is wilted.

My flower has awaken, opening, unfolding to the glory of the sun, inspiring the birds and bees that swarm around her, vying for her nectar

Be a good Parisienne girl, and accept and bask in compliment of one of your many male admirers

That’s my fav poem yet.  Hmmm, many male admirers....


............ next morning

A little poem for you this Monday morning

Chère Reine, ouvriez votre coeur, laissez moi secher vos larmes, aimer votre ame.

Baby Girl, be kind your you inner little girl, she needs your attention and love too

Truer were words could not be written today
Reine...isn’t that queen?

Yes, as in you are my Queen

My dearest Queen, open your heart, let me dry your tears, love your soul (sound better in French)

Everything sounds better in French

Did you like the Queen poem
(remember I’m sensitive artistic type of guy )

Yes, I liked it..., sending you a loving kiss


............ next morning

Your baking is always superb, you are my heroine..., call you Chef Girl Genevieve

I don’t post the stuff that goes amok.
I am no chef. That is an earned title and I def do not qualify. I just like to play in the kitchen with sugar

you are a grand chef in my eyes

Faux chef Genevieve

here we go again, am i going to have to write another poem of how great you are

I must have blown some other kind of dust in your eyes

You are like a wickedly delicious ice cream sundae, made up of complex layers of intelligence, wit, charm, and sophistication. And the cherry on top, is your stunning elegance, femininity, and beauty

Is a breath,
Stuffed with coffee grind
Thirsting for milk
And never to suckle.

Is a thought,
A dream quickly awoken from;
And lost in the tenor of real,
Sighs from life

Is a light,
A shaft of gold
worth all the stars
And yet empty

Is a place,
With silent waves and screaming winds--
The ears, pierced with calculated air

Is a God,
Is a moment,
Is a place,
Is a thought,
Is a breath,

Is a time to give thanks to winter
And dance in the snow.

Is a time to kiss the trees and hug their leaves
And laugh
When their cackled, dehydrated ossicles
Ground to dust in our arms

Is a time to worship the sun between the planes of stone
And calculate the equinox online
With electrons and info

With a careful rasp
The next turn of the marble
Grates against the curve
And the Mancala track keeps what it has sown.

in late september, when summer has past and fall is here, as the sun sets and the sky blues, bitter sweet yearnings stir, as winter comes. the days cool, the nights lengthen, i long to hold you in my arms, smell your scent mixed amongst the fallen leaves, to feel your lips against mine, to taste the candied sweetness of your kisses.

i relish the coming of the cold, nights buried deep in flannel sheets, weighted down by woolen blankets, warm and snug, bodies naked, intertwined, vulnerable, safe in each other’s arms, oblivious to the world and its problems.