Maybe it was the sleepy way your voice would read me to sleep each night but I was pretty sure I had never known love until then.

It could have been the way you brought me hot chocolate with whipped cream when I was sad because you know those little things mean everything.

And I’m not sure really when it began but I know that once I looked into those eyes I felt my whole world tilt and turn.

I’ve spent my whole life trying to find words to explain love and how it feels.

Little did I know the words were already written they were just being read by the wrong narrator for my story.

Echoes.
Reverberating off the kitchen walls
Little children scream and laugh and play.
They prance and pace in circles through the halls
And chase the dreary drip of tears away.

Pictures.
Their tiny hands created works of art
Hung proudly on the fridge for all to see.
A stick figure with pigtails and a little scarlet dress:
“That’s you, Mama!” she said, “And look, here’s me!”

Cyphers.
Her whispered words would tickle Daddy’s ear.
“Your Majesty!” She bowed, with sweet doe eyes.
He melted at her feet as she drew near;
He scooped her up, and kissed his sweetest prize.

Embers.
A sleepy fire flickers, soft and mild.
She yawns and lays to rest her tousled head.
Her mother smiles and hums a lullaby to seal the spell;
She's sleeping by the fire, but awakes snug in her bed.

We were just two strangers,
Who once took a leap over November.
It was bittersweet and sometimes I wonder;
.......

A feverish dream under the phantom twilight,
The tiny hamlet rests on a colossal pumpkin,
The gargantuan bulbous emerges every Hallow’s Eve
Carrying with it an ominous kin,
The Pumpkin Folk are eccentric & gaunt,
From Dainty Betty to Growling Bob,
They speak very little, eyes bloodshot,
Bent on making menacing faces on Jack-O-Lanterns,
The air sweetens as they carve & peel,
Until an unfamiliar gallop draws near,
The headless rider with an ethereal glow knows no halt,
His battle charge mocks the very tempest Nature spawned,
Terror looms over the Pumpkin Folk but their Elder came forth,
‘Oh Great Fiend, what is it you seek?’

*******! Your pumpkin island looked smaller up North
Guess the perfect head will have to wait

It's always beautiful
as usual
waking up to you
in the morning.

Closed eyes, tucked in
looking for you
as fresh rays
break day, and we
toss and we turn
feeling limb by limb

Leaning over to kiss
you awake
coming to know
first light
by your smile
when.