You can’t go home again
but why would we?
Here is a melody.
Knowing fingers on taught guitar strings,
drum skins,
soft, strong, tribal.
Gritty lyrics on the lips of strangers
joining together like
long lost sons and daughters.
Prodigal friends,
lovers.
Conversation flowing like rivers,
musical streams, reeds and water.
Spoons in coffee cups
making wind chime laughter.
Dishes clatter in the kitchen.
Yet
her youth diminishing
her curves expanding
his vision thinning
thoughts thickening
Yet…..
his eyes are resting upon her
and…..
just as in youth
it is all
about
the curves
Summer Rain
Summer rain on my cheeks;
Warm like sun’s rays,
Soft like lover’s breath,
As freeing as a confidant smile,
Like each drop knew where to find me.
Lashes heavy and wet
Completely enamoured with clouds.
Hair sticky
Like cotton candy sweetness.
Brief as a stolen kiss,
As lasting as a teen romance,
Giving, cleansing, gone.
I Have Loved You a Lifetime
I have loved you a lifetime.
A lifetime is as long
as a lifetime will be
and not a half breath more.
Though let us not be so vulgar
as to speak of love and time
in the same stunning breath.
The heart knows better.
The heart knows what the heart knows,
that long after life is spent
and the limited time of life
exhausts it’s last stale breath
and the drained breath is long forgotten
so the chambers of the heart
fully warm love’s eternal chamber.
Beyond the time of life,
undoubtedly, love breathes eternal
and knows only a beginning
but never an end.
Life knows little of eternal longings
and love knows little of the confines of time.
And all that I know with certainty
in the margins of the time in this life
is but this one faultless thing….
I have loved you a lifetime.
Copyright Christine Falk 2011.
Write Words
Let us write words in ways that are full of desire;
strong and hungry and deeper than darkness.
Let our souls share secrets that our lips can not know.
I want to touch so much of you with printings and passages.
I want to be the winner of something now,
A red ribbon at the circus, the white of the candle flame, your kiss.
Be my moon, as blue as the birth of her greatest loss
and like my moon invisible and ever present.
Let me find victory in the ways you trace my palm
and I shall caress your needs with my supple lettering.
Let us write words in ways that are full of desire.
Let us be lovers of the page.
Copyright Christine Falk 2013.
Contact the author to obtain permission for use or republication.
