A cup of coffee and the sea
And a little bit of you and me
A burst of wind blowing towards the land
And the entwining of my fingers with your hand
A setting sun, mirrored across the water
While we look on, marking our happily ever after
A cup of coffee and the sea
And a little bit of you and me
A burst of wind blowing towards the land
And the entwining of my fingers with your hand
A setting sun, mirrored across the water
While we look on, marking our happily ever after
He wondered if I’d ever written something with him in mind
Confessing he’d been scouring for a piece of him in every word of my pieces
I could only smile and say no
Little could I tell him though
That his disappointment was misplaced
I yearned to tell him so
But I
I could never do justice to the embers he ignites within my soul
For I’d never be able to write anything for him
There just aren’t enough words
Or pages
Or lines good enough
To sum him up
So I write
Day and night
Of everything
But him
In the hope
He’d notice
That he has me tongue tied
Did I ever tell you about the love stories trapped in misty, yellow street lamps?
Of cold winter nights and foggy, dewy mornings?
Of the sweet partings they’ve witnessed and the unshed tears they’ve hidden from the world by dimming their own glimmer?
Of happy reunions, drunken songs, smitten glances and lingering fingers, unwilling to let go?
Of forgotten paths from childhood days
Of forsaken crushes from teenaged forays
Of forbidden meetings and notes exchanging
Of broken hearts, dragging feet, slumped shoulders and endless pining
Ah! did I ever tell you about the love stories trapped in misty, yellow street lamps?
I speak in broken words today
On behalf of something else that’s been broken
Time and time again
I speak in broken words today
Of the unkindness within each one of us
That rears its ugly head
Ready to strike
When someone shows us the least bit of care and concern
For it feeds its ego on the tears of our friends
I speak in broken words today
Of narcissism, sadism, toxicity and inflicting pain
As a way to make ourselves feel more alive
I speak in broken words today
Of the lost art of breathing free
Smiling even more freely
Caring with abandon
Loving without caution
Giving, with no expectation of receiving
I speak in broken words today
On behalf of a heart
That’s barely been beating
Because it chose
To live heartfully
While my words may be broken, my poetry imprecise, my thoughts may be scattered and my breaths out of rhythm
I resolve today to live kindly
Because this world is not meant to be
A graveyard for broken hearts
Happy first day of the last month of the year. And oh, what a year this has been. A lot of what it brought along was entirely unwelcome, yet there’s a lot to be grateful for.
So while this year comes to an end soon, it’s important to remember that we have no inkling of what the next one holds (other than the hope that it’s very different and the pandemic would no longer exist). It behoves us to be slow down and be more mindful of our blessings, chief of which are our loved ones’ health and happiness. Check in on your tribe.
If nothing more, this year has been instrumental in reminding us of what really matters and what we hold most dear. So go hold them, cherish them, nurture them and love them.
Live a little, love a lot. Isn’t that a very generous thought?
I read somewhere today that there is plenty of work for love to do.
What a simple statement and how very profound. It made me pause in awe of its full meaning. Truly a wonderful motto to abide.
So let’s get busy loving in these lives we’re living because there’s plenty of work still remaining.
If songs could be held
I’d send you a warm hug
From Sinatra, Elton John and their ilk
And serenade you to some Bryan Adams
Suade you till you danced
A slow waltz to a jazz
With your usual endearing pizzaz
But alas, you’re miles apart
And I can only feel songs
I’ll find my happiness
Where the sun shines
And I’ll share it with you
From noon till night
Under a clear sky
Where only the wind chimes
Can you tell me where dreams go to die?
In the dreamer’s tearful eyes
Or in the broken pieces of his still beating heart?
Or the soft sound of your receding footsteps
Silently tearing me apart?
There’s a lot still left to write about
But tonight I’m content with the way you feel