a_different_woman Death of a Rose Met a beautiful woman not long ago. And it seems that every day is a pleasure when she is conversing with me. Her....well you know, all the corny stuff. She is quite sublime. Lots of Q&A. I think communication is just so much easier with her. A smile that is transferable. Lemon chicken is apparently her favourite dish. You know it is a befallen state when the precision of a sudden weight can make decisions change, a corrected courtship. An awareness of those internal struggle, trying to convince myself of the simple need. This ground I am upon is shaky. I do not think I can banish her easily, and when the mountain of my resolve is unled I can do nothing more then think about ways of pleasing her, hearing her, tasting her. The likeness of my nature, I am but a man of brevity. If she asked for help, I will answer. Scars are an unveiling. Is this my answer? A second passed in such pleasure that the seconds cease their weeping, a stumbling in another thankful injury. Would she see the potential of my demeanour? If my senses are unbeaten, this solitary caraciture has hope now. Her son's name aloft in my scramble. You make me forget my wants, a slow dance with the audience as mist in passing. One breath is all I ask. An inhalation to keep my stride. I need your help my friends (and detrators). I wish to be her inclusion. Do I stay the course and feel the situation out? Or do I try once again to be what I wish to be? This focused sound has invaded my blue sky. I have songs I would sing only she nodded and smiled. 040820 ... lucky So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found; Now proud as an enjoyer and anon Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure, Now counting best to be with you alone, Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure; Sometime all full with feasting on your sight And by and by clean starved for a look; Possessing or pursuing no delight, Save what is had or must from you be took. Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, Or gluttoning on all, or all away. 040820 ... pete Feet placed forward upon the tender line The breeze rises from the far away sun Fulfilled in the silence of the lost pine Even the hours have held close what they should shun Her eyes reflect my soul's gentle moon light And the line shakes as the wind picks up speed Unsure of the course, like lightening bound kites Yet stranded in the middle, though impedes "Walk forward, keep the path" I whisper at last Knowing that any fall while crossing through danger Is better than regret, that will hold fast, I find running from this perfect stranger And so I wobble forth, with a free heart Dancing against failure, playing my part (i tip my hat to lucky for the sonnet) 040820 ... argh *thought 040820 ... Doar I most whole heartedly concur with Pete. 040820 ... pete advice i was given once, passed along, and i have a good friend for it 040820 ... love & hate i have now become 040820 what's it to you? who go blather from