Love words.

Just words.

Love words

...Do we remember love? The pretty poet asked. I told her. When we are young, the allure of love, make us believe in a sweet miracle. We are infatuate with the first kiss, the first dance and the quiet whispered of love words into the midnight hours. We savior the interlacing of fingers and the mercy of giving without demand. Yes, dear poet, we remember love.

...The pretty poet asked. Can love last forever? He took her right hand and he kissed it. He whispered love is like a gentle skin on salty skin. When love is alive, the heart linger in joyous dance and we will travel blindly into the arms of love fearless and bold. But love die hard, so damn hard, we can bleed for a thousand days. We do not forget love. We will never forget the love words spoken to us and the pretty faces we danced with for a moment in time. Yes dear poet, love does last forever. The lover's kiss, the lover's face and the tender embrace of love becomes tattoos upon our heart. Put away, hidden away and reborn in sweet dreams.

...She asked, if love is so wonderful, why are people alone, so sad?  He took her to Lake St. Clair and he pointed at the beautiful lake. He told her. The lake St. Clair is always moving to her own dance. In our youth, we do not know, we do not see. Take two people to cherish love, take two people to find each other and to fall into the bosom of love. Like the lake, love moved to different places and wise/brave people, they hold on. Love begin like a inferno fire and if we neglected love. The inferno fire can become ashes and old wine. The thread of love can grow to places where we learn, love is everything. I remember holding my first child and I learn. Life is more than me. Dear poet, many sad people. They wasted the kindness, the gift and the mercy of love glory. We decide if we are forever. I read a poem to her.

...You don't love me, no-more,

we have become strangers and the harsh Winter of life,

had stole the gentleness of own voices,

the warmth of our kisses.

I asked the night,

can dead love, be reborn?

Can darkness find light?

Can lovers learn how to create a new fire?

Is dead love, no-more?

I told the rising moon.

She don't love me no-more and I am to blame.

I believe I forgot what love was,

I forgot to show her.

She was my teacher of kindness,

my teacher, my only joy.

Now silence had stole our laughter,

now talk-less nights and separate lives.

The house became a shallow grave.

Should I stay or should I go?

I went to her and I asked.

Baby, my sweet heart.

Do we have enough to keep us sane?

Are we killing each other?

Do we have anything left?

Tear filled my lover eyes and she whispered.

Please don't leave me, I remember us.

I want you home nightly,

I want us to share meals every night.

I need us to watch TV together and I know.

Easy to run, harder to hold on.

We have become strangers and I want us.

To share our life, I want long vacations and secret hotel nights.

I want you to see me, know me and understand.

Love don't die easy and we must be braver than the fear of regret.

I brought her close and I whispered.

Thank you my love,

thank you for staying with a foolish man.

I see you now and I know.

You have been my everything and without you.

I would of, never known love.

                         Dancing Coyote

Author's Note

Just words.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

You don't ever forget those tender moments. Love though, needs to be worked at. Like the embers of a fire they need to be attended to, they need to be nurtured to ensure the flame doesn't go out. Togetherness keeps love alive. Without it, you become strangers. I love your poetic expression in your lines Coyote. All good wishes to you.

Chris

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Chris and I do agree. Hard work to keep your number two happy. But we must.

[Chris Shaw]

So true Coyote. Love takes both effort and creativity to make it work.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

love is too easy to run away from...we have to fight sometimes to stay.
a lot of this reminded me of days of my youth....when it was exciting to just hold hands, that meant something...and kissing was an art...
when we loved to be going steady....
now all that is a moot point...it's just jump in the sack, slam bam thank you maam...and
can be fairly meaningless...
as Chris says...the flame needs constant fanning and reassurance.
love this write.
and your male point of view which is never afraid to show vulnerability.
j.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Jacob. I made too many mistakes. I believe the most of us must fall often to gain wisdom.

[Fran Marie]

your words of love
are true..love does
and can last forever
as days of our youth
speak and the years
together teach us to
cherish that love..even
after love's embers
may turn to ashes and
old wine. It can be
revived..your poetry
Is always a treat to resd

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Fran. Easy to forget and harder to rebirth the energy of love.

[Fran Marie]

So welcome dear John

[R.E. Ray]

Coyote, your poem speaks to the beautiful endurance of true love. We walk many trails together, and when the paths narrow and we grow old and gray, we know the truth. They truly loved us, and we've become one. A tender, sincere poem.

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree my friend. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[R.E. Ray]

You're welcome. Always a pleasure.

[Patricia Wedel]

Sometimes we wander down a Primrose Path... only to discover
that love is embedded in sharing a dream and the beauty of the sky
with all its moods and theatrical scenes that causes a dependency to be
a "delicious cup of Tea with warmth and affection that lasts through Eternity.
A poem just for you... dear John ... truly, Pat

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree dear Pat. Love need slower days and keeping alive the things that made two people one.

[sonnie ibadah]

"You have been my everything and without you.
I would have never known love."

Aww, this almost made me cry. So beautiful!!!

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend for reading and the comment. I appreciate the kind words.