I wrote you a poem today - praised you from eyebrows to toenails exhorted the wonders of your mind, the miracle of your voice. I wrote a rhythmic essay to your hands and their gentle pathways and the feeling of your breath in my ear. I wrote today the poem of you just as I wrote it yesterday and will write it again tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow until I find you.
03/12/2008
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but Nature more,
And far too many of us have found and lost what we found by overlooking it after many years by forgetting what it was we found. Very nice write.
I like the timeless quality to this, the ideal in your mind, the sureness that that person is there. Nice job.
