Tag: love

Immortality

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

"If a writer falls in love with you, you will never die."

This highway teems alive at night
With dusty clouds in streaking lights
To guide the moths all seeking life
With the never near and never far
When two hearts find their missing part
Making the picture perfectly clear
This was what they needed from the start

Time divides in subtle ways
The life of love doesn't age with days
And when all else has failed, love remains
Not sunsets near, nor sunsets far
They cannot change hearts or stars
From beating bright into the night
And seeking each other in streaking lights

As You Go

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

As you go through your day today, be sure to take a moment to remind yourself how beautiful you are.

You are beautiful.

Just because no one else might be saying it right now, you still need to hear it. Say it out loud; say it at least ten times each day.

"I am beautiful."

"I am a beautiful person."

"I am beautiful to him."

"I am the beauty that creates his reasons."

Say it. Own it.

It is all true.

Regarding The Couple At The Table In The Corner

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

She folded a white linen napkin over her arm
And stalked away to find her friend
Her service is prompt and courteous
Attentive to every whim and every ask
But this afternoon with blushing cheeks
And a Cheshire grin
Eyebrows arched over squinting eyes
As she held back the laughter, boiling over
That she wanted to release with bellows
Unabashed and joyous

Her friend returned with his water pitchers
To refill and make another round
When she stopped him with a gesture to come closer
To a whisper's distance
As she muffled her words behind laughter

The couple at the table in the corner
Was the focus of her concern
There was an energy around them, she claimed
A glow as visible as golden sunlight in an azure sky
Their eyes are locked in focus on only each other
And although they are seated with their menus
Opened on the table before them,
Their meal doesn't seem to be a concern at all

She couldn't help but smile, it seemed
When she saw the smiles they had for each other
So how could she, in this moment so pure
Disturb them enough to do her job?

Again, she paused not understanding this sudden
Happiness that was washing over her
The tedium of another day of serving tables
Carrying trays, with aching muscles and a weary mind
And here in this moment, it had all washed away

She glanced around the restaurant at the tables high and low
Business men sat sipping amber drinks
Coldly appraising each others' worth
Couples sat in quiet conversation;
The events of the day, to escape their empty nests
Appreciations long since vanished from the cushioned comfort
Of a life bound by routines

A thought crossed her mind
There is no passion in routines.

Laughter from the corner table broke her thoughts
And a glance caught this unusual sight
Hands being held from across the table
And he leaned forward as a gentleman might
To place a gentle kiss on the back of her hand
Her heart picked up pace, as a bus boy
Delivered refills of water to the couple at the table in the corner
His eyes were met with smiles and instantly
The bus boy started smiling too
Smiles turned to laughter, a joke and honest play

Fun.

They were having fun.

She made a quick stride back to the table
For they certainly must be ready to order by now
And as she greeted them once more, they both smiled
Holding hands, and holding back the laughter
That bonded their moments into memories

Lost for words, and once again trying to contain her own laughter
The questions that came to mind had nothing to do with the menu

The questions rolled off of her tongue
And as if rehearsed, the couple at the table in the corner
Answered them one by one

It takes a youthful spirit to keep love alive
There is something to look forward to every day
It is a commitment not of solemn vows but of hearts
For words will fade like autumn leaves
While hearts are real
They're always real
And hearts can love, can grow, and can heal each other
Life should never be routine, for there is no passion in routines
And schedules should always leave room for something new
A moment can be an adventure, a moment can be a lifetime
And a moment can mean so much more, even to those around you
So never be stingy with smiles for each other
For everyone you touch
Because a smile can make someone's day better

And with that answer, he took her hand
And helped her stand from her seat
He gently brushed her long, white hair back and kissed her cheek
Their eyes met, as he picked up his cane
Placed his hand on her hip, and danced her away
Leaving their happiness behind for someone else's day

Those are lessons never lost
To help make cold days warmer
Like a gift that is free of cost
From the couple at the table in the corner

Broken Threads

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

I lost myself on purpose in the glint of her eyes,
a flash of her smile and the joyous vibrations
set in motion by the contagiousness of her laughter.
An evening given by each other, to each other for
no purpose other than to mend the broken threads
of heart stings carelessly cut by the knives and
daggers of others.

Of lovers.

Those past reflections seem magnified in tear filled eyes;
blurred and bulbous, blown out of proportion, but still
significant in their weight when tied to a thread so thin.

Her hand found mine near the edge of the table, or maybe
my hand found her's. Something about such synchronicity.

Such simplicity.

Golden flames radiated from the flowery centerpiece.
The scent of a garden in spring time; the warmth of
the sun smiling happily as if it were a child again.
I could smell her sunshine as she warmed my skin. I
could feel hope rise with a quickening pulse. Perhaps
life could hold the promise of those youthful dreams.

Or so it seems.

And when the coffee was set, the night was nearing its
close. Soon we would walk under the starry skies, and
the moon's judging eyes. The unwilling separation of
love and laughter into separate lives. But a thread
mended and another thread tied, hope restored and a kiss
to taste the sugary sweetness of her lips. Let the moon
watch what it has seen in the streets, the fields and
in between. Hearts need hearts to mend.

Happiness should know no end.

Do The Math

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

You know that whimsical game. You can pick a daisy from its stem and slowly pluck the petals saying with each one, first, "She Loves Me..." then, "She Loves Me, Not..."

That little game only ends with, "She Loves Me..." if the flower has an odd number of petals.

Which stands to figure, doesn't it?

One would need to be pretty odd to love someone like me...

Once In A Lifetime

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

Once in a lifetime, you find the one with the heart your heart is meant to beat in rhythm with. You find the one with fingers your fingers are supposed to lace with. You find the one whose breath is the air you're meant to breathe. You find the one with the skin your skin is meant to warm.

When you find her, hold her tight. Feel your hearts beat in rhythm, memorize how her hand feels in yours, savor the sweetness of her breath when you breathe and promise her you'll always keep her warm.