I am an imperfect man.
and she has a beautiful perfect
transparent heart
of which she lets me
hold in my rough hands.
Her heart is warm to the touch
never cold, for inside of it
it's full of fire, a fervor for life
I see burning bright, for her heart
is made of the most pristine glass
I see through it clearly
to the flickering flames within
that dance and dance
always before my eyes.
Yet I am flawed, and my
seeing leaves me sometimes blind
at the warmth and wonder of
her heart I hold in many hands.
I wish her heart to never break
nor the one to be the cause of
the breaking.
I hold it delicately lest to crush it,
yet not too firmly for it to slip
from my handsI hold it with a willful assurance of self
as I marvel at the magical
glow that pervades from
within.
Her glass heart is stronger than it
seems, more than she even knows.
Tougher than any Titans mighty
blows could wrought asunder.
Her glass heart's unwavering transparence
mesmerizes my eyes, for it is true,
so very true straight to
it's core.
and beckons for me to hold it in my hands
for all the rest of my days.
by Philip Wardlow , August 31st, 2022
As she walked down the hall, every up and down turn of her hips mesmerized me more than a snake charmers dance with a cobra…
She was a petulant child trapped in a woman’s body with the insatiable appetite of a sexual succubus,
She confessed her desires, let me have all of her, then used me up, cast me aside, and then knocked on my door and asked for it again and I obliged her with a smile and let her in.
I would have come and danced with her in the rain but sometimes I liked to watch from afar and get lost in the beauty exploding from her smile.
Neither one of her two sides were her but both together made her who she was.
Her curves were beautiful, from hip to lip, from breasts to almond eyes, She took delight in letting me help her with all her secret sins that her mind meandered to.
Even the want of death is life because its a feeling. Hold on to life through that feeling and claw your way out of your loose soiled grave dear girl.
When ever she bent over or reached up for something upon a shelf, did she know how absolutely enticing her body looked when she did it? I’m thinking she did…
Violence never solved anything but it sure did look sexy on her in that moment in bed…
When she leaned her face first against the wall wearing that silk dress knowing I knew she was not wearing anything beneath, the invitation was too much to bear.
She was a magnet to me the first time I laid eyes upon her and she has been every day since.
She loves me without question. Adores me in the fullest. Leaves me wondering what she sees in little old me.
This sweet, wonderfully funny, bombastically beauty of a woman with her chameleon like gorgeous sexy, flourishing soul that beguiles me from her red hair to her dainty toes, from an arc of an eyebrow to the sway of her luscious hips in play, she always seems to get her way with every delicious day I find myself with her.
I have the clover, the horseshoe, the rabbit’s foot, and shooting star all wrapped up in her.
She’s my lucky charm I hold tight to, that magic that I delight to.
I love recalling the past of you when we first met, when the Universe nudged me into you, I remember your first smile, shy but sly, your first laugh, full and inviting. your body as it danced, swaying and in sync with my own. I remember your eyes looking at me with a lust of a thousand lovers, then later with love like a thousand poems I don’t want to forget the first time of knowing you and everything that pulled me into those eyes, running. I want all the songs that are ours to wrap up around us every time you walk into the room I don’t want to forget you the first time.
Because those first times always bring me home to you and I love you all over again just like the first time.
I gotta tell you guys
something,
there’s this girl I got married
to…a redhead
just October last.
A little sexiness
wrapped all up
in spontaneous fun
like a toy gun
that you don’t
know when its about to go off
BOOM!
Getting me all undone,
my god she’s been the one
since the beginning
of the meet up
Eyes dark and delicious,
kind and genuine.
Extraordinaria
That’s Spanish for extraordinary,
now I lavish her with the
extra ordinary
whenever we go out
Cuz, she started as my Princess
and I made her my Queen
And she know who the King be,
especially in bed,
where she can just Be
with me, as she let’s
me take the lead
sending her to a little slice of
heaven.
Empathically deep
Evolved intentionally
beyond the word weak
that life
tried to pin to
her early.
She grew and she climbed
always seeking
the sublime
She bled and she wept
she endured
She flew beyond the
bonds of other’s
dead expectations
and found her
own song to sing.
I knew she was a
woman I could I fall in
love with,
was my final thought
After
she walked out the door
of our first meetup.
with me wearing, I’m sure
a boyishly sad grin,
wondering if I would ever
see her again
Your pretty face was
not an image in my head.
You were non-existent;
invisible in my reality.
Then right in front
of me, you shone
like a day
that never knew light.
You popped in gloriously
and I could not look away.
How many turnings of the Earth,
how many cycles of the Moon
have gone by since that fateful date
of our conjunction?
You were magic found that night,
a treasure uncovered, a beacon
in a blanket of fog as
I held you tight,
dancing,
the music playing,
me dissolving into you.
Now you are ever present,
you sit in my mind
Never moving an inch
for I hold you fast in me.
For the lover you are now.
For the friend you will always be.
I like to think on the not so long ago,
when the Universe
brought your brightness
to me, and that I never want
it to leave.
She says she wants to go before me
because she says she’s not strong
enough to see me go.
She often casually calls me darling
from across the room
likes we’ve always been.
She pulls the positive from me
and pushes the negative away that
at times I let invade.
Whether in darkness or light
she takes my hand knowing
I will protect her in an instant
She seeks to know my day
whether it’s mundane or magical,
she seeks the knowing of me.
She often asks what was the best
part of my day, and my answers vary,
but I never say what I should,
that it’s the drive home in knowing
I’m going to see you.
It’s not easy for me to love.
Distance is my friend, for closeness
lets the hurt creep in.
Yet, I wish her close.
I want her near.
I want everything she
has to offer
I want all her tender
ways.
Often, it’s hard to trust what’s true,
when it’s wanted so badly it
sometimes leaves you feeling
a damn fool.
I know her love is rich and as
warm as the dark coffee and sweet cream
in my cup.
So I drink her down, down, down
and she picks my tired soul up
from the ground that I had been
laying on.
She’s my Nature, she’s my Sun, a
a field of flowers which clings
to me that I roll in until
the dawn comes.
I can’t catch her lightning, and
wouldn’t want to try,
She’s finally escaped that bottle,
the lids far flung
I’m just trying to keep up
with her escape
as she runs.
I’m not worried,
I know her eyes will always
find me as I know her gaze seeks
only my own.
I love her truly,
as true as she loves
me, and I would be the
fool to ever
wander away from such a
passionate love that
has all my
affections for all the
time that life
has left for us
to be.
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 