Facets Of Love by Paul Curtis (buy e reader .txt) 📖

face
And brown soulful eyes
I had forgotten
The sound of her voice
With its sweet honeyed tones
And her infectious laughter
It had been hard
But I had forgotten her
I had forgotten
The smell of her hair
The taste of her lips
The touch of her skin
I had forgotten her
She was off my radar
My senses were free of her
Free of her intoxication
Free of her narcotic
It had taken months
Going cold turkey
To cleanse myself
To detox
To shake her from my consciousness
And exorcise her from my soul
I changed jobs
Decorated the house
Rid myself of everything that reminded me of her
And I was free
My life was once more on an even keel
The stormy seas had been quelled
All was calm and safe
Such comfort there is in safe
The wounds had healed
Though the scars remained
I had peace of mind
Since I had forgotten her
Well I had forgotten her
Until that fateful day
When I found it
Down the side of the sofa
A small pearl button
Such an innocuous item
Evoked such potent memories
Of a violet lamb’s wool sweater
That accentuated her breasts so well
The button was a casualty of an encounter
Discarded in our passionate haste
And in that instance of recognition
She was all at once back with me
My senses reawakened
Her scent was in my nostrils
I could feel her lips on mine
Her caress on my cheek
I could hear her infectious chuckle
And I saw her sitting beside me
Close enough to touch
And as the wounds reopened
I realised I had not forgotten her
I had just shut down
Disabled my interface with the world
Hid in my castle and pulled up the draw bridge
And created my own world within
I held the button in my fingers
As my castle walls fell
And the world flooded in
That little pearl button
Spoke to me in volumes
And I knew I loved her still

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER

Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Is that really true I wonder
Does it work without fail
Or is it just an old wives tale
I’m not sure the advice is the best
And I’m fearful to put it to the test
For if I were to go away
For a month, a week, a day
I fear I wouldn’t miss you and pine
But would think our separation fine


DIFFERENT STROKES

We are poles apart
You are north to my south
We are different ends of the solar system
You are Mercury I am Pluto
We are contradictory
You are black to my white
We are from different ends of the earth
We inhabit different hemispheres
You are up and I am down
We should be knife and fork
Brush and paint
Cup and saucer
Pepper and salt
But we are not
How did we become man and wife?


SNAPSHOT

I held her picture
Posed for posterity
A picture of a young girl
In a summer dress
A “hand me down”
Pattern faded
With fraying hem
A pretty young woman
Face of innocence
Framed by brown tousled hair
Naïve and unaffected
Unsure of her beauty
And more beautiful
Because of it
Such a wonderful snapshot
Of a perfect moment
So long ago
I fell in love with her that day
My heart melted
Like the snow in spring
I love her still
And every day in between
Tears welled in my eyes
As I looked at that picture
Of naïve beauty
And they fell unchecked
As I remembered
The woman she became
And the love we shared
Until she was taken from me


TAINTED LOVE

Cruel fate
Cursed our souls
When cupids arrow
Missed its aim
And speared our hearts
Hearts not free to love
Hearts otherwise wedded
In blessed union

But cupids strike
Left us fettered
Bound together
With loves chains
Enslaving us
Bonding us with love

Conjugated by fate
Entangled marionettes
Puppets of love
Reluctantly performing
To another’s will

Held in love's grip
By fates curse
That bitter sweet gift
Of deceitful ardour
Duplicitous romance
Forbidden passion
That gift of love
With the curse of betrayal

Knowing loves intimacy
The joy of closeness
The warmth of tenderness
Passion made manifest
Emboldened the psyche
Elevated the soul
Flames of passion
Burning deeply
Cleansing all
But the guilt

Enchanted by Eros
Beguiled by Amor
Spellbound by adoration
But gripped by fear
Fear of being together
Fear of discovery
But the overriding fear
Of separation


RAINY SUNDAY

It’s a rainy Sunday
And I’m feeling blue
Remembering the past
And thinking of you

Do you happily look back?
Across the years
Or do you view them
Through bitter tears

Do you ever think of me?
Just once in a while
With a furrowed brow
Or rueful smile

You thought our love
Would last an eternity
But I was quite happy
Just to wait and see

I just wanted us
To enjoy the laughter
But what you wanted
Was happy ever after

I loved you so much more
Than I would ever say
When we broke up
On that rainy Sunday

When you asked me
I should have said
“I really do love you”
I just shrugged instead

I wish I could go back
To that rainy Sunday
I would get on my knees
And beg you to stay


PRISONER OF LOVE

I stole a glance at you
Lustfully larcenous
More than one in fact
I was a repeat offender
A serial gazer
In perpetual regard
Loitering with intent to stare
In open mouthed infatuation
And you caught me
Apprehended me in the act
Of elicit observation
Your arresting look
Took custody of me
A petty felon
With prior form
And with merciless intent
You stole my heart
Without hesitation
No mere act of petty larceny
You took it from me
And at once captivated me
Imprisoned me
Behind the bars of love
Once in your possession
It became valueless
Scornfully regarded
You keep it under glass
On display
Where you can watch it beat
Or by capricious whim
Play with it
Like a cat plays with a mouse
While I die by inches
Knowing you have my heart
But not one of your own
So sits a prisoner of love
In sight of death row
Indefinitely incarcerated
Behind the bars of love
No hope of parole


THE RUSTIC STILE AT LANES END

At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands sentinel still
Marking that special place
Where the fates conspired
Our souls should meet
Though we purposely
Trod opposing paths
We met at that rustic spot
And to help you cross
I took your hand
Small and silken soft
Guiding you safe to my side
And despite the presence
Of each others companions
We were to all intents
Quite alone
And in those moments
When hand touched hand
We at once beheld
Our lives from that point on
Would be forever altered
And were content
With that destiny

At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands like a monument
Marking the place of alteration
A significant place
A spiritual place oft revisited
And on such sojourns
We would find renewal
As the energizing memory
Of that special moment
Assailed our senses
Essentially invigorating
Like imbibing the waters
From the fountain of youth
And our hearts would once again
Resound with joyousness
And sweet moments of romance
Those excited tingles
Of loves first passion
When hearts beat faster
And desire courses
Through every fibre
The thrill of blossoming love
Adding to the strata
Of our love laid down
Through all our years
By returning to the place
Of loves wondrous inception
We keep our love alive
And in equal measure
Love returns the favour


ALL OF MY LIFE

All of my life
I have had no talent
Hidden or on show
No gift or endowment
No skill or mastery
No bent or flair
Ability or forte
Nothing to mark me out
From the common herd
Or stand me out from the crowd
All of my life
I have been ordinary
Mediocre and average
Quite mundane and everyday
No hint of genius
Expert only in my ordinariness
But content in my mediocrity
All of my life
I have been un-ambitious
No goals to be achieved
Not driven by desire
In any shape or form
Some might say shiftless
I would say satisfied
Happy with my lot
All of my life
I lived a half life
Until my outlook changed
When I saw you smile
And heard you speak my name
I was born again
With new purpose
A new vocation
To shed my mediocrity
And cast it aside
Like a well used coat
And dig deep within myself
To find that dying ember of desire
That almost imperceptible spark
So clearly visible to you
And breathe life into it
Until white hot
And then fan the flames of passion
You have ignited in me
All the rest of my life
Endowed with your gift
I will feel extraordinary
And with my new found ambition
My one and only goal
The soul purpose of my being
Is to make you truly happy
As happy as you have made me
And with all my heart and soul
I will dedicate myself
To always loving you


DREAM LOVER?

Was our secret love as special as it seems
Or were our liaisons only in my dreams
Am I remembering those nights clearly
When your heart beat only for me
And we satisfied all of our passions
In all their varied forms and fashions
Could it be our exertions were a fallacy?
Our sexual gymnastics just a fantasy
Were those sensual hours spent with you?
Or just an imagined lovers rendezvous


ON LIFE’S GREAT JOURNEY

On life’s great journey
When sweet love crosses your path
Seize it with great urgency
Capture it and keep it safe
Do not let it loose from your grasp
Lest it slip through your fingers, and be gone
Hold it tightly
Cherish it, nurture it, and watch it grow
Until it wraps itself about you
Like a great loving cloak
Protecting you from the world
Making you invincible
And you will know true happiness
But when on your life long expedition
And sweet love crosses your path
Ignore it at your peril
For who can say
When it might pass your way again


BENEATH THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE

Like the star-crossed lovers,
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love
They meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
The only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
Fearful of discovery
They embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree
Whose leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the still water
Stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
They kiss there in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect .punctuation
Stirring from their lovers languor
They tread separate paths
To rejoin warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manner
No knowing looks to be exchange
No casual brushing past
When for that exquisite moment
Hand touches hand
They must remain entrenched
Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree


I SPIED A CHRISTIAN MAID

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