Love Early

3 Comments

Love Early

I saw him standing in the room,
in fact I did not see the room
     For him

A word twixt us had not been said,
Considering what now lay ahead
      Took over

I turned to look for my first time
As gracefully as I could run
     Came to him

My heart knew something I did not
The perfect place, the perfect spot
     For lovers   

Yes there were words, but very few
He took my hand and led me to
      The dance floor

As he embraced me and he moved
His body warm, his desire, too
Love early

His sturdy hand pulled me to him
His cheek now hot, the lights now dimmed
Only us

    I willed myself to withhold from
Him how I felt, now stricken dumb
Souls meeting

Through years of happy days and sad
I do admit, more glad than sad
      Now he's here

Was it the music playing then
Or was it wine, made my head spin
    Toward him

Is fate or Karma to be blamed
There's still a dance floor in our brain
      Where we go


And as the days pass swiftly by
A solace we find here each night
Together

Protectors and Safe-Guarders, we
Of love we've known so tenderly
    Love early


~~~Original poem by Sandy

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monkyntz commented on Love Early

06-11-2009

love desends on those defenseless very well writen and so full of emotions you express your feelings wonderfully

Writer1

06/11/2009

Thanks so much for reading. It's easy to write from the hear when the story is true. :) Thx again!!

Cosmos commented on Love Early

06-04-2009

This is truly an excellent piece. Your form is elegant and well executed. It had a nice story with good wording. I only hope that my wife and I can keep the same passion as described in this poem. "Love at first sight", great stuff!

Writer1

06/04/2009

Thank you Cosmos. Writing from the heart does come more easily -- and this is poem was written about meeting my husband and my life since. Thx for reading!

Writer1

06/04/2009

I shouldn't try to reply to comments this early! I SHOULD have said, "...and this poem was..." Had to correct it or my OCD would "kick in." :) :)

Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

Writer1’s Poems (38)

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His Grace 9
His Eyes 2
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Song for Kyle 0
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Song for Danielle 0
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Nick's Song 0
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Love Early 3
Lost Time 5
Last Fix 2
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