PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

                I was dealing with pain,

                the first night that I met her.

                I felt a melting on the air

                as we spoke to tell our stories

                at a party of mutual friends.

                Her mother schooled nodding head

                led the conversation easily.

                Above a long evening gown

                her words flowing effortlessly

                from a pale face long since kissed.



                That night easily marked

                the best time of my last two years.

                I haven't seen eyes I'd remember

                or really looked for since then.

                She was ex-wife strained,

                living in heart imposed exile

                just lately forcing herself from the past.

                But instantly her look

                showed her deference,

                open minded but struggling

                with divorce vibrations.



                Her heart well sheltered,

                she uncovered, searching

                within my eyes, my worth

                that was leaning toward her.

                I stopped and caught my thinking

                my heart leaping, I was headed

                into a world of pressing.



                The night and time were truly hers

                She'd climbed a wall and jumped

                from the past, a lifetime of work.

                The wishing for forever gone

                wifely anxieties pushed from her mind.

                Now here she was a shy divorcee

                her children and her ideals

                grown but always welcome.



                I loved the trance,the spell,

                grasping warmth from my fire.

                I inhaled her perfumed words,

                the spilling of her refreshed innocence

                cut through my stale heart

                and started my inner music.

                I moved closer, a love magnet

                caught up in her positive pull

                with my negative world about to sail.



                The first of many dances she drew to me

                pressed into my arms by trusting choice.

                Swaying with my willing touches

                I pulled her closer and brushed her cheek,

                scaring myself sick! - she smiled sweetly

                and the feeling numbed my legs for a minute.



                The night now lost in fervor

                memories of past closeness filling my head.

                The  heat of her breathing

                added an ardent swell to my open breast.

                Grasping to deal with the nuance of her,

                my nevermore ruled over by insight,

                an unexpected stabbing at conclusion....

                "She's got to be forever!"



                I pushed up closer to her blithe frame

                in her eyes I smiled to see

                her wish of want to cross forbidden lines.

                I felt the silly schoolboy,

                rearing in me so suddenly

                My heart, strained to keep control

                soaring!



                Only we, knew what was happening,

                talking through the tall past

                We reached the border of vulnerability together.

                We left together laughing

                right past the astonished staring eyes.



                In the morning light

                I was blessed with her keen smile searching me,

                both of us still caressing,

                in the warm sweet spent silence

                the constant tangent of ripening love.



                She said sheepishly,

                "I'd almost forgotten!" and smiled

                that afternight soothing smile

                and that was six years ago.

                I'm still waking to that smile

                like a drink of fresh water

                every morning!

                A smile for every afterlife!









                The role of poetry is to utter the un-utterable; to open up

                spaces of consciousness and resistance; to language oppressions; to

                re-language historie