In Joy

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

She brings young love up to the door,
Her family on the other side;
A heart as full as hearts can be,
And eyes alight with pride —

But families don’t always see:
They can get locked up in the past,
And miss the growing moment’s mien,
“Another thing not meant to last –”

But Lord, how much I now believe
That love is love, and not to be
Ignored, put down, or patronized,
Nor pushed aside with pleasantry —

And all there is here is what is:
That boy loves girl, and girl loves boy,
That fire warms, and welcomes us,
And we should greet it all

In joy

cinnamon or taffy

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant 
the boardwalk summer:
low tide and high feeling,

a helpful bit of sun
along the way,

and music, like a
soul-possession engine --

a tastes-like-cinnamon-
or-taffy day


a kiss behind the pier:
a running stallion,

a dancing mare
with yellow tangled hair,

a range of wooden slats
for many horses,

a galloping within
the blare and glare


a multicolored night,
a mini-vegas:

a taste, another taste,
a plunging in,

a space for two,
a tentative exploring --

a map of worlds,
that's written on the skin


a cinnamon or taffy taste,
a blending,

a play-it-off amid
the swirling crowd,

a hopeful kind of glance,
a sudden sorrow,

a private look
that's somehow said out loud


a day a night a gain a loss:
a growing

that no one notices,
and everyone --

a summer on
the boardwalk of tomorrow,

a halting start
that stops

but isn't


done

In Time Reborn

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

A limitless expanse —
In time reborn and unaware
We ventured

And left our hearts to chance:
The magic morn of cupboard bare,
Indentured

But never knowing it was so.
So intimate, so artless —
The world may be a wonder show:
It’s keepers, though, are heartless —

A barefoot couple’s dance:
Ere everything that isn’t fair
Had censured

In-time-reborn romance;
A field of flowers there
Where we’d

Adventured

Fall Carnival

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

Photo Aug 10, 11 50 40 PM - Copy

Young love, what it felt like. A clear Autumn day –
Golden leaves, a blue sky, the bright carnival way;
At fourteen years old with my very true love
A large crowd around us, a few clouds above

The roar and the music, the beautiful girl,
My mind in a passion, my heart in a whirl –
We watched as a pulling glass man did his craft,
And walked our wide circuit from fore back to aft

And we never touched – but somehow she touched me;
In ways that come back now in fair memory.
A crush, I guess, one hardly lasting much longer;
But for that one day, I had never felt stronger

And rarely have since. It was one of those things:
Days when your heart’s dancing and when your soul sings —
When Autumn embraces you, full, as a boy
And all coalesces with love
And in joy

I Wander Freely

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

I wander freely in and out of dreams
Along a path where long ago we walked;
By tires on long ropes, swung over streams,
Where crickets chirped and frogs croaked as we talked –

And as young lovers do, we also did.
I loved the shy excitement of your eyes;
Your quick’ning breath, as on that path we hid
And tried our civil hearts to naturalize –

I still recall your look, your smell, your taste;
Each element of your glowing embrace –
To sin not, nor repent, in any haste,
To watch a moonlight shadow on your face –

With you I wander there in ecstasy:
With you, who’s never spent one dream on me

First Foremost

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

No one knew it. Nobody.
She held that secret closely;
Her family thought they knew her well
But they mistook her grossly

She loved a man much older, and
Before long, they’d found ways
To steal away for secret nights
And torrid hidden days

They saw her as in years gone by,
All pink and girlish things;
But she knew what they didn’t know
Her heart’s desirings

And love transformed him in her eyes
To something he was not;
In passion’s vision, pure mirage,
No fear of being caught

Yes, she knew what they didn’t know,
Her girlhood left in dust;
That nice girls sometimes lose themselves
Amid
Unbridled
Lust

POSTSCRIPT:

So now it’s ten years later, and
She’s married to the guy;
It never should have worked out, and
I cannot tell you why

The two of them are happy, But
It is not as I’d feared:
I can draw no conclusions, ‘cept
That life
Is very
Weird