Every Season In Love

In every season
of our future,
I’ll have at hand
and in my hair
the flowers,
whites and pinks
to accent these
realized romantic dreams,
femininity, soft, 
silken whispers, 
petals, and tresses 
brushing flesh,
lost senses, 
summer dresses
lifted, sensual 
kisses, wet lip
gloss, hands skim
then clutch
in the rush,
bodies in the garden
fall with lust
once again
into even deeper
married
love…

Every Season Sought

Hold me tender,
the only one I seek:
temporary tear breach.

Dam the rest
as your love ripples,
fills again those crevices,
archaic, getting old.

I long for those fissures
to grave-grow cold.

Your weathered browns
still warm my soul.

(No sadness today, just recalling those times in each season when I needed most, and you drew me near to remind me of the greatest, purest truth I know. ❤️)

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Would You Walk With Me? (With Audio)

If I offered you my hand, 
would you walk with me, 
leisurely toward dreams
sunsetting upon the sea?

If I shared what’s in my shell, 
let you hear the whispers, 
would you heart-preserve them
among your dearest treasures?

If I stopped and turned
and looked into your eyes, 
would I find there
what I’ve been searching for
all of my life?

If I were brave enough 
to let that gaze linger, 
would you be brave enough
to close the distance
even further?

If you kissed me,
would you be able to surrender, 
to allow me to turn the key
and make you mine
forever,

not by locking,
but by releasing, 
freeing the love
you’ve been deep-freezing, 

to feel directly
the flutter of mine,
the wings I have grounded
indefinitely from flying?

And if they combined, 
these lights in our souls, 
would you regret
not having the time
for closure with
your shadows? 

If our union ends
up to be the origin
of love, 
would this moment
be perfect enough
for the first page
of our album? 

Would you fall
each day deeper
in love with me;
would our love grow
until it lifts us
into eternity?

I suppose if you don’t know
all of this now, 
I’d still like to walk with you 
awhile, 
and if you already know
all of this now, 
you should know
these feelings in me
I could never
disavow.

As you reach for my hand
even though none of this
I have said aloud, 
I feel the universe shift
and know I have been
finally found. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Suncatchers

Each moment
I gently hold
so tenderly,
each for a separate
still-life eternity,
seal in a crystal
tear of joy,
baubles of my heart
hung in the field,
suncatchers upon
the Tree of Life,
and I kneel and feel
the kiss on my bowed head
from the Light,
and my Father whispers, 
“It is what I have always wanted
for you, my sweet child.”
I rise and return
to the heaven
of your love,
and just for today, 
for us,
time slows down…

With My Hand

With my hand on your beard,
as I look through the windows
of your soul, 
release some of the fears,
let your eyes close,
feel more than hope –
with certainty, 
know. 

With my hand on your heart, 
feel the warmth, 
a blanket wrapped lovingly
in front of the hearth;
I will hold it tenderly,
never let go,
so you never again
feel the chill of 
alone. 

With my hand in yours, 
a perfect fit, 
let our strengths
and ghosts
cross borders, 
transmit, 
let’s carry each other
through thick 
and thin
as heroes for the day
and circadian until 
the end. 

With my lips
upon yours, 
please don’t resist
the medicine 
I deliver,
release within;
let my love
be the elixir,
let love win,
for we are love
itself, in purity and
origin.

With my arms 
wrapped around you, 
let it all go. 

All warriors need
a safe place,
a haven, 
a heaven, 
a finally-home. 

Keep Us Here

Gently, I shake my spring snowglobe
and shrink like Alice into the dreamworld. 
Meet me there, beneath our tree
in the shady grove beside the stream.
For a while, simply lie with me,
as we listen to the birds
and each other’s heartbeats
and feel the wild grasses
underneath our bare feet.
This paradise with you I’ll keep,
these stolen moments in which we
so easily let ourselves just be,
so freely, just you and me, 
entwined in love beneath
blue skies and green canopy
as the bliss drips and seeps,
honey-coating our souls with peace:
this is simply all I need. 
Angels, please shake again tenderly
our spring snowglobe eternally. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Petals Along the Path

Just another golden bloom
beneath the golden rays,
just another petal in the path
to my heart’s hearth
at the end of the day

where you’ll find me always
and just the same,
as faithful as sun & moon
taking turns to
light individual ways,

but you know the direction home
by the scent of the dream,
and you make your way 
off trail through the fields
to me;

the wildflowers whisper,
familiar with us both,
and excitedly sway, tickled by
our love’s natural growth.

In the distance, 
your soul espies 
its shared light source:
love of your life
predictably hunched over
wildflowers beyond the garden. 

Inside your chest,
a million daffodils
spring up,
your silhouette 
against the setting sun, 
itself, like hers, 
haloed in the golden, 

and the gods gently shake
with a smile
the sacred snow globe of love,
officially changing the season,
and all of creation again
wakes up…

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Collisions

No words
for once
for you, 
just this
gratitude
I transfuse 
from my heart
to yours
while you
hold me
a little
more,
and our hearts
beat
as one
as they always have:
it led us 
to us, 
our rhythm 
long ago
set in time
by the gods.

My love, 
I knew
in that first
moment,
you were
the one. 
It’s not
cliché
when dreams
are made
from the clay
where star-wishes
collide
with the earth
when they are sent
back
to finally
be birthed. 

You pull back
to look at me,
and the stardust
in your eyes
reveals
the cause
of the tears,
those few magical drops
that are silently
released
in the moonlight
and cleanse
both of our
fears. 

Maiden Song

I am the maiden from your dreams
whose song you still heard in your non-sleep,
deep in the wood where the single beam
breached the dark and lit the lilting stream
that you followed, barefoot-steady on mossy rock,
determined to find the source entrancing your heart.

Maiden, faery, mythological immortal, 
you knew not the form of the feminine aura,
only that you would never be at peace
until you tasted the voice that gave purpose to the breeze

that reached you over and over again
both far away and as breath upon your skin, 
closer now than you’ve ever been,
always determined I’d be just around the next bend,

and this time, the end of the search,
back turned, I felt your presence,
white dress, hem drenched by the river,
wildflowers woven through waterfalling tresses;

unsure if the heavens kept a soft beam on me
or that was my own light self-illuminating,
you froze in awe, then began to weep in relief
as I slowly turned and used your name in my greeting.

Never so sweet were three syllables ever spoken
until the ones that soon followed when in your arms,
I was finally enfolded––
the fit, so long ago star-blessed and
divinely molded.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise