The Room We Share
by Lemuel Crouse
A kiss? A tryst? Sweaty
Sheets completely undone...
Our love is all that and more.
With you, my forever mate
Have I shared, cared, cried,
Lost, found, lived, mourned,
died and been reborn...
We two know what love is.
And what of you, bloggy friend
For whom I've come to care?
Is love less for never having held
For whom I've come to care?
Is love less for never having held
Your hand...touched your face...
Brushed an unruly strand of hair
Brushed an unruly strand of hair
Back into place for you?
Is there not a space in which
Our love abides and grows?
Or, you, whose gentle hand
I’ve held as tears welled,
Though I stand no longer
By your side, as time
And distance have divided
Us, is our love now less?
My once and always friend,
How can it not be the same?
If not love, what name are we
To give what we also share?
Or do we dare proclaim
What we know to be,
And stand, hand in hand,
Together in this room
We have built, wherein
Our hearts still beat as one?
As my dear Bug knows so well, I am a hopeless romantic, or perhaps Romantic would be more correct, and generally more hopeful than hopeless. I fall in love...a lot. I wrestle with this, with understanding my penchant for tumbling head over heels, with my heart being ever exposed. I struggle with being carried away, in words especially, with being over the top. I am a peculiar soul...old beyond reckoning in some ways, ever an awkward teenager in others. I do wear my heart on my sleeve, and I dare the daws to peck at it. This is who I am.
To listen, press Play:
For more Magpie Tales, click here!
As my dear Bug knows so well, I am a hopeless romantic, or perhaps Romantic would be more correct, and generally more hopeful than hopeless. I fall in love...a lot. I wrestle with this, with understanding my penchant for tumbling head over heels, with my heart being ever exposed. I struggle with being carried away, in words especially, with being over the top. I am a peculiar soul...old beyond reckoning in some ways, ever an awkward teenager in others. I do wear my heart on my sleeve, and I dare the daws to peck at it. This is who I am.
To listen, press Play:
For more Magpie Tales, click here!
14 comments:
It's true - he IS a hopeless Romantic :)
Love you, dear heart.
There is a space for bloggy friends, good blogger buddy. And most definitely a loving space for one whose whose hand you held now divided by time.
I honestly believe that only the hopeless Romantics truly understand the concept of love. We treasure your words that help us understand such emotions as love and grief. They are never over the top.
Not only that, you're a pretty darned good poet!
I am too... nice take!
JJRod'z
Women love romantics. A lovely write. : )
Hopeless romantic? Perhaps we all are 'hopeful romantics'. Beautiful piece.
Nicely done! There are many different ways to love and you captured a flavour of that. You have a most pleasant speaking voice, also.
i hear you...there are different layers to it, but love it is...on somewhat of a note, i have been pleasantly surprise by many of the friendships i have with people i have never met...
Women do. lol
Love can exist in many dimensions. ♥
Wonderfully well done~
and this is how the world becomes a better place!
Lovely to see romance is not dead! lol
i like the elements and nuances in this
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