Penstrokes _

My heart yearns for those early days.

 I have but to close my eyes and I am there.

You reach for my hand

    my pulse is racing,

 my heart pounding,

 I can feel the moisture welling in the palms of my hands.

Those simple, carefree days when a mere glance was erotic.

 When your eyes foretold of all the passion yet to unfold.

A time when our fingers intertwined and I’d dissolve into sugary oblivion.

                Oh, my sweet,

          my beloved,

                 I want those days again.

        Is it possible to go back?  Is it even conceivable?

I remember walks that led nowhere…

  but it didn’t matter then.

      We had long talks…

                          about everything.

But mostly we talked about our dreams and aspirations.

 About our views for the future.

       How sweet and idyllic we were then.

We were in love.

  Every one could see it; we wore it like an amulet upon our chests.

We’d shout it from the rooftops if we could.

        The heat from our glance could melt a scrooge’s heart.

We were young and beautiful and our love-light shone.

              Oh, I want that again.

   Is it true that too much of life has transpired,

        that the world and its demands have jaded us?

Or is it that reality has softened us, worn us down,

  weakened our spirits, torn down our dreams?

       Or is it that we just gave up?

We decided to settle.  To be just like all those before us.

    No.

          I believe not.

I believe our destiny is still before us.  That it will never be too late.

 I believe that God helps those who help themselves. 

    That we can pick ourselves up by our bootstraps and we can

make a go of it.

  That we can make our lives more fulfilling.

            More grand. 

                More splendid.

          I believe too,

 we can bring back the heat of passion.

                    Perhaps not that of our youth…our naïveté,

   but that which is even more rewarding.

            More gratifying.

      More satisfying.

            Even more passionate.

 I want to hold hands again for no reason at all.

  I want to kiss whenever the desire calls out to us.

I want to hug…all the time.

      I want to whisper sweet nothings in your ear,

 make mad, passionate love together.

    Huggle and snuggle and hold one another close.

I want to talk out loud to you,

         and you to me.

       I want you to tell me your desires.

Your dreams. 

          Your innermost wishes.

I want to make our hearts patter in an old familiar rhythm known

   mostly to newlyweds.

           I want to read to you.

  I want you to read to me.

                     I want you to brush my hair,

    caress my arms,

          kiss the nape of my neck.

I want to touch you in that special way.

     I want to feel your warm breath,

  watch your eyes close…

                          I want to start over,

     reawaken our passion.

I want to be your missus and you my mister,

  your lover,

          your best friend…

ã Norma Sherry 1998

Pricing

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Copyright © 2001 Norma Sherry