Amatuer poems and prose written by Me at various times in my youth, for the different loves, and almost loves in my life.
Freshman year, 1993—-Robert
Just like a feather
from a magnificent bird
was the way you swept through my fingers.
Maybe it was love?
That I don’t know
but something was there
and now it’s gone.
March 1995—Ryan , my first love
Not Long Enough
Words can’t explain it
but do you feel the same?
don’t talk, don’t say a word
I already know
hold me, kiss me, touch me, love me
I gave you my innocence
now take it with care
don’t break it, its fragile
it’s full of love, wanting to give more
hold me, kiss me, touch me, love me
forever is not long enough.
July 15, 1998
In This Search
In this search for the one with his eyes
the eyes that penetrate through me
the eyes that read me
the eyes I get lost in
the eyes I don’t fear looking into mine
for they’re the eyes that love me
In this search for the one with his hands
the hands that cup my chin
the hands that run through my hair
the hands that with the slightest touch on my skin
fill me with contentment
the hands I don’t fear holding me
for they’re the hands that protect me
In this search for the one with his voice
the voice that alter with emotion
the voice he only lets me hear when we’re alone
the voice that can loves to sing regardless of skill
the voice I don’t fear hearing
for its the voice that makes me smile
the voice I’d know anywhere
In this search for the one with his mind
the mind that ponders
the mind that doesn’t give up
the mind that craves knowledge
the mind I don’t fear helping
for its the mind that helps mine
In this search for the one with his heart
the heart that bleeds
the heart that cries
the heart that loves Jesus
the heart I don’t fear holding
for its that heart that also holds me
In this search for the one with his soul
the soul that is alive
the soul that glows with contentment
the soul that loves my God
the soul I don’t fear knowing
for its the soul that dances with mine
Where do I find who I am searching for?
He can’t be the one I long for
Where do I find the one with all his traits but one?
Where do I find the one who will never stop loving me?
March 25, 1999—Cameron
The eyes of my love
are warm baths
soothing and comforting.
The lips of my love
are royal pillows
made only for me, the queen.
the hands of my love
strong and worn
yet they turn to velvet
with the slightest touch on my skin.
The heart of my love
is a furnace
full of warmth and light.
Time is ticking….where are you my love?
Spring 2001—-Michael and friends
Memories travel like a whisper int the dark
I can still hear the whispers from years ago
In dreams, I see bright light through my eyelids.
Mikey says the scent of Heavenly gives him butterflies
His touch sends tickling fingers down my spine
His lips taste salty sweet
His whispers urge me to stand on top of Big Bear Mountain and sing
Purple sounds like drum and bass
Spring break 1998—Lake Havasu, Arizona—Barbie Matzke falls down in the dirt laughing
hysterically–she thought we were floating on a raft, but we were napping in our tent
we weren’t napping, we were daydreaming.
Santa Ana winds wrap warm blankets between still, cold air
Kaden is a perfect name for a child
My name is Theresa because that’s what everyone calls me
We howled Pink Floyd’s “Two Lost Souls Swimming in a Fish Bowl” late into the night
The small lips of peace and contentment kissed our eyelids as we fell asleep.
His sheets are as white as night.
I’m flying above him now, can he see my wings?
Treese is too passionate for the Average Taurus
but this Taurus’s whispers drive her passions.
Cold blankets make December nights numb.
I’ll have to whisper through the pounding rain for him to hear me.
Quiero que besarte otravez
daffodils in my garden flirt with the sunlight
whispers float through the clouds, through my window, through my mind.
Falling in Love—date written, unknown
I love the butterflies, the dizziness, the warm feeling that spreads over my body when I think of him or talk to him. I love the innocent and naïve infatuation with everything and anything he says or does. I love the random moments when he crosses my mind. I love the fantasies and dreams of laughter, friendship, and romance.
But falling head over heals is such a paradoxical transition isn’t it?
The things I love and hate about falling in love: the paradoxical hope and fear that somehow through all of this, everything will change.
both at the same time, mixing around in my brain and in my stomach. I want the feelings to go away, but at the same time, never want them to leave.
Am I the only one? No….I know this is part of it. This is part of what I have gone through so many times in my life—each time, hoping this one is for real. Each time, disappointed in someway. Each time, swearing to never go through it again. Each time, surprising myself because I still feel like I did the first time I fell for someone—13 years old all over again. So uncertain about where my life is going. So uncertain about who I am or what I really want. So child-like and vulnerable. So stupidly giddy and willing to sacrifice all in the name of some fantasy only Cinderella and The Little Mermaid truly experienced.
I’ve been told to put on my goggles and dive in. Otherwise, how else will I find that prize winning fish?
And so I do—but I don’t dive in
I do a cannon ball.
2 thoughts on “Summer of Love: in memory of…..well, love”
You’re such a talented writer! 😉
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