Worker of words don’t blame her –

It is every ladies fantasy to find a poet who can encase her so perfectly in writing.

To feel so worthy of being placed in words so all may see her for all of eternity.

I know at least for me this will never be, and this is okay with me.

For in my heart of hearts I know I am not worthy of such arts.

Words flow but they hardly come and go.

I have never been one to sit and stay so the lines of a page for me are a cage and would only bring dismay.

Perhaps this is why I will never be placed into a grave…

 

Sing my soul into a song so I may dance with the leaves in a cool eve’s breeze for all to hear throughout the years.

One more look

With just one look I was hooked

Each word that dripped from your pen made me crave more again and again

Every line was divine and I wish it had been mine

But every story has an end

Just as you lured me in you sent me on my way in a daze

Only when I closed the book did I feel the missing pieces in me

I knew I shouldn’t but I couldn’t miss just one more look…