Longing in Spring

Smooth, brown,

soft like honey.

Quietly beautiful, like an

old gem beneath the quilts

and Pyrex in an antique shop.

I had to point you out to someone.

They had to see what I see;

they'd never noticed before.

I was baffled, but pleased

to know that in my own way,

you

are mine.

My lips burn for you.

My fists blanche,

the grin grows.

The glances flicker like moths.

I want you.

I want you, I want you

I want

you.

Something has a rope ripping round

me, however. It wrenches me

backward,

and backward,

and away.

One voice craves you and spits upon

logic and society and

consequences.

The other screams a

crippling caution.

I've caught your looks

at times, and there is something

behind all of them.

Curiosity? annoyance? desire?

The first voice sings 'Go, go',

to dust off those wings and

up, up

up.

Courage has never been a 

companion of mine.

Thoughts overpopulate,

overstimulate.

But the animal can almost feel

your skin. Your geometry,

your curves.

You.

Thinking is the talent of mine

that wins all of the prizes-----

but doing?

Reviews

[.ronald.039.]

one of the more honest expressions of love i've read in poetry. good job. if this poem is an indication of the rest of your work, you definitely have some talent.

[mope]

I'm not sure why but this really works.

[zappy]

WOW this is great u really got talent