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mark john junor Sep 2014
the promise that her tenderness has no fences
made her linger on my mind
like a rough bottle of fine wine
and as the evening rolled back daylights clutter of thoughts in my head
that smile she flashed me came back to kiss my heart
it came with such delight sparking in her sweet eyes
that i just felt myself drowning in the moment with such wanton joys
made me illustrious by her soft-spoken side
made me happy to be alive...

once the sullen girl in baggy sweat pants and pink slippers
dragging a bag full of noisesome beatnik romances
she has grown to love freedoms road
cast aside such tin-plated gods and rough-house boys
that a pretty boy isn't a man if he wont make a stand
found herself holding a wishing well coin
and a map showing paradises shores
and came down to find me again....

sitting in a coffee house full of lost voices
full of magazine honeys chilling before the big break finds em
listening to the sounds of heartbreak in glasses chatter
and waiting for a road that made sense to me
when she walked back into my life
like a rough bottle of fine wine
like a candlelight evening with true loves joys
i will be here forever know that now
florida moon-surfing
holding her in my arms
breathing the magic that is her
exploring her romances
(dedicated my friend dean and his girl mary who i wrote this poem about)
Life Jun 2014
I feel like I am diminishing
I am shriveling up
Not really dying
Just a whisper
Fading

I am a soft-spoken word
Like an escaped secret
Never able to return
To your lips
Not ever
Something seems off about this poem. I have been trying to wrap my head around it, but I can't. I think it is the ending, I want it to be powerful or give a different perspective to the poem. But I haven't found anything yet, so I have decided to stop thinking, and just post it.

— The End —