you are (more than these words)

sometimes curly, sometimes straight.

light to dark and dark to light.

her hair changes upon season and mood.

eyes shine, glimmer like diamonds.

she’s a springtime song, thawing out the winter’s chill.

her face, smooth and delicate.

her silence says a thousand words; her tone soft and angelic.

her presence, like soft falling snow, graceful and quiet.

the elegance, the beauty, outshines the sun on any given day.

when her smiles make an appearance,

my heart becomes weak, and falls again.

her skin, creamy; glowing.

her heart, caring and giving.

a dedicated humanitarian, her modesty might say otherwise.

a seeker of truth, dwelling within the words.

a wonderful mother, a juggling between life’s acts and little wonders.

a wife that only a man can dream of.

wishful thinking to my reality.

she is a symphony in life.

a rock upon which i can lean on.

a friend no one can be, the best.

you are.

you are more than these words,

more than what my painting can say.

you are the essence of my desire.

oh, my love!, my heart longs when you are away!,

and when you are within these arms, i beg for forever!

c.2013, 2017 BGW

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anymore

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i was –

an empty bed and no telegram delivery.

while the coffee that brews,

waking, i stand here;

waiting, for the things i’ve lost –

to come back in different form.

i stand here in the kitchen

waiting for the things i’ve lost

to come back –

to come back in some different form.

a dear john letter,

and she won’t be coming back.

she won’t be anymore,

but forever a god damn attack on myself.

her amazing eyes,  never coming to this ship wreck.

solo black coffee toast,

yet i knew that some kind of pain was overdue –

a little expected,

but never not this soon.

never not this soon.

absolute can never be certain,

tell me it’s not this again –

she wont be coming back,

anymore,

anymore.

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i wasn’t,  and there i wasn’t.

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

winter’s morning

 

 

when i woke in winter’s morning,  grey and beautiful

snow had been falling during the midst of night

the hidden light of the moon falls into its slumber

and a stillness of the morning seemed to take hold of my thoughts

– in a grey morning dawn.

a leaping sun hides and hibernates

and yields to a gentle falling snow.

all the silence that is to be heard in the woods

i seek for it here as i sit at my desk in this cabin –

warm and comforting.

glancing out the window before me –

frosted and cold.

the desk lamplight shines upon the parchment,

the cobblestone fireplace warms the room,

and i gaze out some more.

hypnotized by the falling flakes dancing downwards,  searching –

finding the words in a silent wonder

i snap back out of my hypnotic state

as the chimes of the clock strike nine

soon fading back into its rhythmic tic toc.

– in a grey morning dawn.

a leaping sun hides and hibernates

and yields to a gentle falling snow.

all the silence that is to be heard in the woods

gave way to the crunching sound of  footprints in snow –

stretching my legs i wander towards the wood pile and grab another armful.

from the corner of my sight,  i found the cardinal perching  in the twiggy branches

the morning snow slowly cloaking,  coating the bare trees,

and all the while the creek below sweeps it cold waters downstream.

the chimney smoke softly drifts upward,  and bellows outward the sent of a welcoming warmth awaiting

i rush back into the cabins comfort.

the tea kettle slowly starts its soft whistle as i brush off the gathering flakes of snow

now melting on my jacket and in my hair

– when i woke in the winter’s morning,  grey and beautiful

snow had been falling during the call of night

the hidden light of the moon falls into its own slumber

and a stillness of the morning  seemed to take hold of my thoughts

 

 

c. 2014 bgw

a poem for the reign

 

the pre dawn winters sky was crisp

the snow blanket  glows bright white as full the moon shone aloud

all the open trails the lead me here,

through woods blindly i sought

*

some come, seek  to love me

some leave and hate me

i  can make them laugh and understand

i can make them cry and leave them scratching their heads

*

some seek to follow me

and others want to hang me at dawns early light

*

but ive seen it all before

the same place where they call me saviour

is where they cursed me all in the same breath

always looking for the favour –

poem for the reign

*

so i run up to the highest point

i scream at the top of  my lungs for some support

i scream out and it echos all

but lands on deaf ears

*

oh,  poem for the reigns –

a broken heart floats down river –

a river rushing and flooded.

the current carrying away whats left

a million little pieces,  all in a million different directions

*

the pre dawn winters sky was crisp

the snow blanket  glows a bright white as the full  moon shone aloud

all the open trails the lead me here,

through woods blindly i sought

 

 

c. 2014 bgw

of bright colour pallet

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

seasons come and go,   and the dream remains

as long the ocean waves crash ashore

the sea’s mist kisses your face –

and salty breeze rushes through your hair as the sands warm the toes

you seek and find a calm, a peace that cannot be ignored

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

years fly by,  all in a blink of an eye –

she grips my thumb with her hand and gazes her baby blues from her daddy’s cradling arms

hands on the clock never stopped in reflection of life

the wedding bells gave her away and now drove away into some other story’s chapter,

oh daughter,   happiness just left me with a tear and a wave good bye

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

dream to desire in a world to explore,   i desire more

an english isle castle outside of a busy city hustle

a desire to go back,  a desire to love and love you anew

finds a cold winter white  turning its head to spring’s journey

summer heat meets and dies in autumns arms only to be handed back to winter

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

c.2014  bgw

the cold morning sky

 

. . . . . . the night came quickly to draw the closing of another day.  the deafening silence was something that became just part of the routine.  the sound of the tea kettle whistled in the presence of  the abandoned company.  i fill  my mug with the water as the steam rose, and i drop in the tea.  i walk it over to the bedside table and set it down.  to the bedroom window, i walk over  and watch the wind whistle through the trees.  small sparse snowflakes start falling and frost forms on the outer edge of the glass.  pulling the robe tighter, keeping the warmth within,  i walk to the bedside and quickly slip in the awaiting bed.   the cool comfort the bed sheets was welcoming, but the vacant pillow next to me was unfamiliar.  //   sleep,  that’s all i needed.  the unfamiliar period in the day where i could just go an try to forget the stress,  aggravation and disappointment of the day and slip into a deep dream,  a place where i can find you again.  i sip on the  warming tea  as i reach for my book to read a few chapters.  poe,  hemingway or dickens come alive as the words strike images in my head.  but quickly my eyelids start to become heavy and my attention to the words become faded.   placing the bookmark,  closing the book , i turn over to turn off the bedside lamp.  darkness quickly covers the room as my restless eyes adjust.  a deep sigh and all the thoughts of what went on,  all the things i did wrong, what made each other tick,  her smile,  her laugh.  all the good times and even all of  the bad,  everything we had  etched well into the loneliness.   my mind desperately seeks,  searches for a sign or something to let me know that she’s still there,   thinking about me.  buts all about  the endless game and question of “what if”  and keeps my sleep awake.  a quick early winters wind passes by the window and the glass rattles.  the conversations i have in my head lead me to believe that im going crazy.  the endless thought of her,  her hello’s and her goodnight’s  stained the memory and present thought.  the constant stress laughs and tic tocks, picks away at the man who once was me.  uneasy restlessness  slowly crawls from my lower back and squirms up my back into my neck, arms and finger tips.  i toss and turn,  and i become a bed sheet burrito.  i force my eyes to find the sleep,  and the black of closed eyes calm.  deep and deeper i find a slice of calmness.  //   the phone that sat alongside of the night stand lit up and awoke my slumber.   in the foggy haze found between sleep and being awake,  i found your name on the unread text.  sitting up quickly,  i read the modern day sent message.  it said that you  needed to talk to me and that you wanted to see me.  she’d been thinking about me just as much as i was of her.  she wanted to see me,  now.  my first thought was that this was another wicked dream,  my mind playing a cruel joke.  i’d seen her coming back to me in many of my dreams,  my hopes,  but none that were real.   i jump from the bed and quickly freshen up and dress myself.  i grab my keys and quickly walk to the truck.   in the short time that i fell asleep,  the sparse flakes of snow had actually grew to a good accumulating covering.  the truck turns over and the wipers shove the small amount of snow aside.  as i drive,  the quietness of the night,  the headlights catch the falling flakes and the tires cut through the slush.  up ahead on the horizon,  the light of dawn started to break and up ahead another set of headlights came up from the hill not too far away.  as i fixed my eyes back to the section of road ahead,   a quick blur of a young deer darted out from the dark wooded grove alongside the road.  slamming on the breaks,  swerving to miss,  the truck began to fishtail.  fighting the spinout,  the truck finds the opposite side of the road,  a ditch,  an open field.   as the first tires caught the ditch,  it flipped the truck over and over.  flip after flip i lose grip, my head hits the windshield and ejects me from the seat.  out  ten yards away from the smashed truck,  i land on my back.  the ground cold and frozen.   the headlights from the oncoming lane stops and i hear the man rush up to me.  the snow crunches as it collects under the soles of his boots.  he quickly removes his coat covers my chest and arms to keep me warm as he calls for help.  i tell him that im fine,  but he doesn’t hear me.  off in the distance,  the faint screaming of sirens become louder,  once again i hear him tell me that help is coming,  but i tell him that im fine and that i need to see her.  again,  he doesn’t hear me.   as i see the police cars,  firetrucks and e.m.s. pull up,  i scream that this is all not necessary.  no one hears my words as the paramedics hang there heads over me.   and as they worked on me,  i was on the cold ground, white sheet and all.  but i was seeing this from above it all,  out of my own.   daybreak,  and the sun crests above the wooded horizon.  the cold morning sky softly glowed a soft blue, peach and grey.  off in the near distance,  the birds sing their morning song.  //  im looking for you,   and i don’t want to leave.  i want you to come back to me as if it was the beginning.  but as it came to be,  there weren’t any messages on my phone saying that you wanted me back.  that part i dreamt i suppose.  when you left,  i was never the same.  the void took my soul,  my motivation.  i need you and  i needed you.   the memory always haunted the present.  but as for what it was,  it blinded the future.  {the past always haunted the present,  and blinded the future} and as i moved along the day,  it was as if my feet were stuck in the cement. //  the night came quickly to draw the closing of another day.  the deafening silence was something that became just part of the routine. the sound of the tea kettle whistled in the presence of  the abandoned company.  i fill  my mug with the water as the steam rose, and i drop in the tea.  i walk it over to the bedside table and set it down.  to the bedroom window, i walk over  and watch the wind whistle through the trees.  small sparse snowflakes start falling and frost forms on the outer edge of the glass.  pulling the robe tighter, keeping the warmth within,  i walk to the bedside and quickly slip in the awaiting bed.   the cool comfort the bed sheets was welcoming, but the vacant pillow next to me was unfamiliar.  sleep,  that’s all i needed,  . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

 

 

c.2013  bgw

can never say it enough (i need her)

. . . . . . what can i say about her?  nothing that i havent already said before,  but can never say it enough.  the sparkling  coloured eyes that look into my eyes,  always say a thousand, unspoken words.  the gentle tapping of the rain,  hitting the skylight,  quickly fills in the silence in the room.   the beating of each others hearts,  exposes the nervousness within  us.   the candlelight flickers as it shows the smile,  the grin,  exposing the beauty that is her.  she is so beautiful.   she is the desire.   the way she whispers  her words,   the soft touch of  her hands,  caressing the mind and body.   this  passion,  filling our voids,  needs and  desires.   here within my hands,   it is you,   that i am holding close.  and tonight,  here we are.   the deep desire,   the passion,  acts on the feelings within.   here i am .   the soft skin,   the gentle kiss.    the warmth,   the honesty.  here we are.   like a puzzle piece,  her hand fits inside of my hand,  a gentle squeeze,  and i feel safe.   face  of  an angel,  and im lost within her eyes again.  endless thoughts and emotions cover my mind like a thick fog rolling into a cityscape;    she seeped through the cracks of  voidance,  everything i kept to myself,  everything i kept private and everything behind everything in my life,  she knew all about it.   i wasnt supposed to let that happen,  and she found a way in.   every physical moment apart,  she’s there,  knocking at the thought,  and every moment together is just never long enough.  //  the passion rises,  as the sun sets below the sailing ships deck.  the clink of a wine glass toast,  a dinner for two.  a drop of wax drips down the side of the candle,  flickering flame.   romance is endless like the sea,  following the motion of the waves.  her hair flows in the sailing breeze.   her face of electrifying beauty,  draws the desire deeper within my soul.   lost in the stars twilight,  the moonlight shimmer’s across the water’s surface.  she is my island,  my paradise.  she turns a cluster of words that scatter inside my head,  into a  poetic prose that is her,  perfectly stated,  but never coming close to her breathtaking beauty.   so, what can i say about her?  nothing that i havent already said before,  but  i can never say it enough.  she makes me feel free.   she takes my feelings that  were numbing  to  my insides and make them  feel brand new;   she is the music to my words,  and i need her. . . . . .

c. 2013  BGW

the surprise in mind

. . . .i thought about her,  for about the millionth time today.  but the drive home from work just does that to me.   it gave me time to wind down from work,  and,  of course,  think of her.  she had been called out of town on business,   and had been away for a week and half.   i always counted the days when she was gone,  and counted the days when she’d be back.   it just became a habit.   but the thought of her could always cool me down,  after a hard day at  work.  frustration wiped away by the thought of her smile,  her kiss that would await for me at the door,  or by the loving reenforcement a man needs after being chewed out by a boss.   but i knew that i wasnt going to get greeted by any of  that today,  and the thought of her was just o.k.,  and seven days from now,  i knew it would be even better.   and somehow,  a smile crept onto my face.   like a horse pill that’s hard to swallow,   i just take these  lonely days one by one.   i came to the long gravel drive that leads to our farm town home.  in the summer,  surrounded by tall corn stalks,  and in the winter,  surrounded by the howling winds.   but with it being only june,  the  corn had only grown to about ankle height,  and that’s  largely due to the fact that spring brought a lot of rain, had flooded the fields.  slowing my pace,  and turning onto the drive,  i drive up towards our castle,  and park in the turn about,  right by the door.   i got out and grabbed my briefcase,  and walked back down to the drive to the mailbox,  to retrieve what the postman had brought.   bills,  coupons and more junk to throw away.   i don’t mind the walk.  not today.  the sun felt warm and welcoming.   a slight breeze comes and goes,  and the thought of her hair gently blowing in her face when she pulls it back behind her ears,   fills in the gaps of hurried silence.   i come to the mailbox and open its little door and i grab what is inside.   walking back up towards  the castle in the field,  i hold the mail in the one hand, and carry my briefcase in the other.   i walk up the two concrete steps that lead me the back door,  laundry room door,  and i turn the key and the door hinges squeak as i open it.   taking off my shoes  and setting my briefcase  down,  out of habit,  i turn to look for her.  and silence welcomes me instead.   i walk to the kitchen and throw the mail on the nooks table and i open the refrigerator.   the coolness hits me as i reach in and grab a cooled drink.  i turn back to the table and pull back a chair and relax for a minute.  taking a sip,  i grab the mail and look through it.  ads,  coupons and bills.  but in the back of the stack,  was something different.   a postcard.  a cityscape was its cover and i flipped it over.   it was from her.  and the hugest smile that anyone could have seen came across my face.  reading what she wrote was short and to the point. ” MISSING  YOU!!  WISHING YOU WERE  HERE!”   signed by a couple x’s and o’s and a heart.   there i sat,  just looking at that postcard’s picture.  seven days till her arrival back home.  not soon enough.   getting up my chair,  i try to find some dinner.  finding something along the way,  i sit in my recliner and turn on the t.v.  and watch something mindless , but i quickly turn it off.   again,  the silence cuts through the surrounding loneliness,  and i try to distract the mind that wonders and  i quickly turn to head for bed.    a hot shower,  a clean shave,   and a good book to fall asleep to.   tossing and turning,  never getting a great nights sleep while the emptiness wraps its cold arms around  me;   where is she tonight?   is she missing me as much as i miss her?    i need to hear her voice,   hold her in my arms and  whisper in her ear,  i need her.   //   quickly i rush to my feet,  pulling on some jeans and my teams jersey,   throwing on some sox and shoes,  i run to the truck.  down the highway i speed down.  the early morning hours pass,  and the corn fields grow to small town commercials created by highway exits.  they come and go  as i try to figure out what i was doing.    the tires roll on like the wheels in my head,   trying to map out a plan.   she was on business,  and this was just my day off.    so it wasn’t like i could really sweep her off her feet and take her away on a vacation.   the mile markers got closer to the queen city,   and fortunately i knew the roads as if  it was my own home town.    but it was only ten in the morning  and i had some time to kill and plan everything out.   //   downtown.   somewhere,  there she is.   tall buildings  cast their shadows down below, on the  people  as they walk by,  coming  and going,  hurrying to their power point presentations.  car horns and ambulance sirens fill the gap between my footsteps.   lunchtime deli,  passing the time,  riverside museum.   could you find me?    i can feel her love come closer.    quickly five p.m. comes around,  and i mix in with the co-workers rush.   one block,   two blocks and the door man opens the door.   hotel lobby,   fine carpets and lined with gold trim.   a far cry from the country pigs and dirt roads.   hotel bar,   hotel pool and the crystal chandelier.    gift shoppe and six elevators,  all  are there,  to lead me to you again.   second floor,  fifth floor,   all the way up to the seventeenth floor,   there i take a deep breath,   and question that maybe she’s too busy,   or even busy in another meeting.   over thinking it,   i quietly laugh at myself.    seventeen-o-nine,  seventeen ten,   seventeen eleven.   is she there?    i face the door,  and like a first date,  my heart beats what seems like out of my chest.  i knock softly and wait.  a faint sound of footsteps approach the door,   and the unlocking of the door preceded by the turning of the handle;   and the door cracks open.   //    i hide my face with the bunch of red roses i bought from the hotel florist,   and i hold my breath.   out from between a thorned branch and a bloom of red petal,   i see her head peer around the opening of  the door,  followed by shriek of surprise;   the door quickly swings open.  she rushes at me like a defensive end to the quarterback,  and im lucky to save the flowers from a  sad ending of being smashed.   her arms rush around me in the hotel hallway,  and we are here.      and as she rushed me for negative yardage,   im in her hotel room.   she stood there in amazement and i hand her  her flowers.    here we are.   standing in this hotel room.   i slowly walk up to her,   reach for her hand and i kiss her ever so gently on the lips.   the kiss was greeted silently with her hand caressing my chest.   slowly she backs away,   and tells me that she’ll be right back.   she retreats to the bathroom,   and i turn and quickly take off my number fourteen jersey and   head to look out the window.   a sunny evening in the city,   and the ants below rush home.    the bathroom door opens, and she utters “honey’.    i turn only to find her in one of my button down business shirts she “stole” and that’s it.   and she’s in some sort of Marilyn Monroe pose against the wall.    quickly i drop the drape from my hand,  and again,   i slowly walk up towards her.   i reach for her hand,   and passionately kiss her,   lovingly.  her hands caressing my chest and back,  slowly unbuckling.   my hands,   gently holding her neck,   to her shoulders,  and button by button,   the shirt falls to the ground,  around her ankles.    deep kissing leads us to the bed,   and i swipe everything off the bed.  laptop,  papers and everything that really doesn’t matter.    there,   wrestling within the sheets,   hands,  sweat, and passionate love stands strong throughout.   what are we going to do?    here we are,   within the arms of our love,   surprise!   we sit there in the afterglow,  and you quickly finish the e-mail and shut the business side of your personality down,   and there we are,   with the evening that awaits us.    is it Nicholson’s or room service that awaits?   we don’t dare leave this room.   no t.v.   no outside interruptions.   here we are,   if only for the one night.    wishing you were here,   please don’t leave.   this magic moment we are in,  what have we found?  the knowing that in the mornings dawn,    i must go,   and another six days wont be so bad.   please don’t go away again,    because i don’t think i can  take it,    i need you tonight,   and tonight is just tough.    because this dream i awoke from,    found me wrapped in loneliness’  arms,  back at home.    t.v. glowing with mindless infomercials.  !! where are you tonight?!     i woke up crying,    needing her now,   because the loneliness is killing my heart.    is she  here?    comfortably,   i lay between the blankets  and couch,  but  numb.    somehow needing her tonight,   i need her within my arms,   holding her so close,   with the smell of  her hair brushing my nose,   the feeling of   her within  my arms,  holding on tight,   falling asleep with her.    i never wanted to let go.  alarm sounds,  it’s  five a.m.,   and i quickly get dressed and i drive off finding the city,  down this highway i go.   here i am,   and i need her tonight.. . . . . . . .

c.2013  BGW

deep within the heart (briefly apart)

. . . . she draws back the thick hotel curtain,  and looks out,  down at the city below her feet.   her reflection mixes in with the outside scenery.   and from the twelfth floor hotel room,  she can see the setting sun clearly.  the cityscape  could have easily been mistaken as  the same as the one before,  tall buildings,  stone,  brick  and  marbled.   little headlights pass by,   as the skycraped  lights grow bright.   quietly the television broadcasts the winning scores,  she turns and watches her favourite teams highlights.   slowly,  finding him again in thought.   turning off the rooms main light,  leaving the bedside table lamp glowing  softly off the wall,  illuminating the painting above the beds headboard.   flipping  the bathroom light switch,  the lights flicker on,   illuminates bright,  bathroom white.   the black and white checkered tile floor was cool on her toes,  as she got herself undressed.  as the bathroom quickly filled up with the warm steam,   the mirror fogged.   she wipes her hand across the mirror and the condensation slowly rolls downward.   and there,  in the clean mirrored image,  alone,  there she stood.  looking into her own eyes,  she could see the memory slowly coming back,  as there he was.   she could feel his hands softly rubbing her shoulders and arms.   behind her,  he softly kisses her neck.   but looking  back into the steamed mirror,   she stands there alone.   //   some two-thousand miles away,  give or take,  minus a thousand or two or plus a few hundred,   there he is.    walking into a house,   without her to come home to after a hard days work,    is a temporary scene.   but one that he could never get used to.    he runs  the razor trough the thick of a foam beard,  across his  face,  and  it shaves him clean.   wiping the mirror off  after every pass on his  face,   the  shower awaits.   looking in the mirror,   there he stands.    tired eyes,   and the stress in his face shines like a bright neon light.    this is not him,  and the man he  knows,   and the man he is seeing,   has  somehow temporarily checked out.    and there,   slowly,   she crawls into his mind,  and he  can feel her hands wiping away his stress,   as if she was there.   his eyes,   looking  back into the mirror,  he is standing alone with only the thought.   he dries himself off ,  dress  in his  nighttime attire,  and heads  for the kitchen.   the summer evening breeze dances though the kitchen window curtain,  and a soft distant sound of thunder dances across the corn field.    there,  as he eats his dinner for one,  he  flips through the channels.   darkened house ;  a soft  glow of the television.   where are you tonight?  //     she dries herself off,    as  she steps out of the shower.    wrapping a towel around herself  and another around her hair,    she calls  room service and orders herself  dinner.   quickly she dresses  in her nighttime attire.    as she answers the knock,   she signs her name and takes the food and heads to the bed.    she eats a bit between her e-mails and replies.   and her food slowly grows cold.   there,  she shuts the laptop,   and props herself up with all the pillows,   against the beds headboard.    flipping through the channels,  catching a glimpse of a movie,  or some sort of program,    the thought of him comes rushing back.    the thought  of one another usually floods each others minds when they are apart.    //    there,  on the couch,   his  food grows cold quickly,  as his  hunger fades away when she is gone.   the  program they  like to watch together  comes on,   and he  can feel her laying  there with him.   but tonight,  the thought of her keeps him company,   and her favourite decorative pillow props his  head up on the couch,  as he continues to watch the flipping of stations.   //  she falls asleep with the television on,  and dreams that he was with her,  holding her and waking up by her side.   but the sound of  the morning alarm proved it all a dream.   one more day of  meetings and deal making awaits,  and then she can go back home.    //   he falls asleep tonight with the television on,   and dreams that she came home a day early.    but the morning alarm proved it all to be a dream,   and with a lonely heart,  he gets ready for the day.   she comes home tomorrow morning.  //    the days apart  never moved as quickly as they wanted them too.  the short time apart always seemed to be too long.    and  everything  always reminded them of each other;    like a song,   or something on  television,   a sports game  or something that they’d come across at the store.    just one more  night,   and there,  they would be together again.    a restless night,   a wrestling match with the blankets,  and  the tossing and turning resembled a fish out of water.    six  a.m.,  this time,   same time,  same time zone,   and the sun peaks up from the horizon.    the strong smelling  coffee brews and looking at the time every five minutes became a bad habit.   he pours himself a cup as he tries to patiently wait for her arrival.   he takes his last sip of coffee and  pulls the curtain back from the kitchen window as he hears the tires roll onto the gravel.   there,  coming up the gravel drive,  she was home.    quickly setting his cup down and rushing out the laundry room door and down the back porch steps,   he watches her pull up and park.   as the dust rolls by,  they run to meet each other,   in the arms of each other,  they once again find  their happiness,   zero miles apart. . . . . .

c. 2013  BGW

a relaitive dream ; searching for the need

. . . . . . the words of an untamed tongue filled the air.  it started earlier in the day;   a blind sided punch in the face,  by invisible words and an invisible intention.  the smooth flow of the enjoyment of the day,  interrupted by a rip tide of  a hurt feeling.  what we said,  tossing back and forth,  word after word,  like a catcher and the pitcher,  we toss the words back and forth,  until one  errors the ball,  and one becomes victorious.  but as stubborn as both of  us are,  we refuse to give it up,  and we make this mound into a mountain,  never even seeing the damage we are doing.   every word, like a dagger,  with holding the anger;  not wanting to fight;   i hope you can see it.    because the anger can never overwhelm the love i have for you,  the feelings are just too strong,   take it or leave it,   here i am.  we ride this wave,   hold on,   hold on;   here as we save.  the door slams and i am left here,  talking to the walls;    i need you to help me fix this ( quickly).  quietly, opening the door,   i hear your  sobs,   tears ;   there you are,  with your head in your hands.   where do we go from her?.   i hate to see you cry,  and seeing crying breaks my heart.   and the love quickly sneaks back into the temporary cloaked heart.   i stand there,   seeing you sob and i ask myself. ” what i have done?”.    to make you cry,   was never was my intention.  it was a moment where i didn’t think of consequence,  and now im paying the price,  backfiring and hurting myself in the process.   what have i done?   i come quietly,   sitting next to you on the beds edge.   i put my arm around you,    and the comfort warms,   and your head sits upon my shoulder.    calmly,  the words speak,    spoke in a soft manner,    and the environment softens.   and when the explanation rolls out like the red carpet,   we find ourselves there,   in the spotlight.  in this moment,   we become stronger.   a defeat never winning the game,   because we have a lifetime to win the series,   break out of this temporary mold,   and  there i am.   to hold you close,  tell you softly,   im sorry.   the words of an untamed tongue filled the air.   it started earlier in the day;    a blind sided punch in the face,   by invisible words and an invisible intention.   i tell you i’m sorry,    ill pick up the pieces,   a heart like broken glass,  can you pick the pieces of this heart?;

all the thoughts  and all the words;

keep me awake on  some  nights –

the pictures that are in my head

act like a short film;   keep me wanting more

wishing that you were here,  riding through this,  with me tonight

here with me,   i hold you within my arms,  whispering  the love,  filling my heart.  . . . .

the next morning and i awake from my deep slumber.  wipe the sleep from my eyes,  and i leave you there sleeping.   i return to my desk and i start the writing that has built up inside this wondering mind.   there,  i find you and i,   laughing ing in a park,  child in the sandbox;   here we all are.    maybe im the trouble,    and maybe im the paradise.    and that’s where we find each other,    in the sandy paradise,    and i reach out and my fingers touch nothing but the loneliness of emptiness,   and the memory haunts in side .  i need you; to talk to need you.   i reach out,   and my fingers touch nothing.   only the loneliness of emptiness.   haunted by the memory of your presence,   the memory;   never having  passed.   the memory haunted ,  but only sighted by these eyes.   my mind stirs and finds you beside me.  laughing once again, a laughter long since forgotten; where are you now?.   the bodies linger still.  turned to dust,  inhaled by the generations,   no longer recognizably human compasion.   and i am alone.   consumed by and consuming spirits of another sort.  accompanied in conversation by the clink of ice,   in the heavy bottomed glass,  the sloshing  of the scotch within.    i am;   the last king of the lonely.   the face in the end.    the face in the end, there i am.   i wake only in the emptiness,  and you are not there,   you are not there.  but there in the mist of the days dawn,  i come upon the face,  that is you.   oh yeah,  there you are.    but i’ve been lost, somewhere in space,  the coming back down,  maybe wishful thinking,  but here i am anyway,  and waiting, i missed the show.  come back down,  into this atmosphere,  once again, im with you.  and here you are,  hand in hand,  there we are,  giving each other our hearts,  i need you, and you need me.

all the thoughts,   and all the words

keep me awake on  some nights –

the pictures that are in my head

act like a short film;   keep me wanting more

wishing that you were here,  riding through this,  with me tonight

here with me,  i hold you within my arms,  whispering  the love,  the  filling of  our hearts.  we are complete

we are complete. . . . . .

and there, the summers air fills

dry and  unforseen.

where does that leave us?

a faceless memory

forever never saying i love you

never was in my cards,  do you see me, now

with a little discretion,

saying i love you,   and never coming out and saying it

because you already knew it,   and there i am..

trying to say im sorry,  and pretending that im ok,

when im torn in pieces,  deep inside this  heart,  can you pick up these pieces?!!

i need you,  seeking the support in you,  and never seeing you,  and now you are gone

but that’s ok,  and ill be there, catching every tear drop,  every lost  “z” in the snore

here i am,  and here you are,  looking above what we show,  and  this regret turns to promise…

and here we are…..

c. 2013  BGW