How does one dream of love when the heavens cry
when long sighs, reminds of Spring days gone by
where the allure of the chase never waned, and love eases the hearts pain,
i would start by catching beautiful bows at the end of summer rains
where would thoughts of love be lead
if dreams nurtured and fed, replaced excuses instead
and the crooked path straightened to the road ahead
insecurity of thoughts fled, maybe what was written, would be said
their would exist no sorrow, sunny yesterdays would turn into brighter tomorrows
and Cupids arrow, would pierce the shadow, of every Rose that ever bled.
For one moment focus not on the reality but the dream
the emotions, the steady rhythm of a bleeding heart
from the feeling that leaves one reeling, i find most appealing
because as i use descriptive scriptures, forming beautiful pictures
my one and only dream is to create a perfect work of art
and like an actor in a play, i rehearse my days, putting ink to page
covering your entire surface with superfluous purpose
i make the canvass your personal stage
our souls meet, our spirits touch, and then as if destined, we engage
my favorite part, , , always the intricacies of the human heart
because i stand forever defined the true poet
and this is how dreams always start
I close my eyes and touch you with my fingers
you exhale warm thoughts as if shallow breaths
and as i trace your image, wonderful memories linger
i lightly brush your figure, for the body is a sacred temple
playfully i squeeze your earlobes, lightly i stroke your dimples
the artist seeks metaphorical philosophies to write abstract realities
studying adaptive abstractives, writing contrived preconceived narratives
I define the wisp of your inner beauty, creating seduction
and using broad lyrical brush strokes i put quill to ink
painting my fantasy as if by numbers, step by step, link by link
and i attempt to write my name all over your lithesome frame
in the hopes that i will make your mind stir, and your heart again purr
and the invisible lines between the dream and the reality start to blur
as an expressionist, my greatest wish is to have someone to cherish
my heart desires you as my Queen, and the poet always scripts his dreams...KB
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem