Repeat Love

a Rainbow Bucket List
a Rainbow Bucket List

In a lifetime of love like snowflakes…none being the same.  Somethings are worth repeating.

 

i carry your heart with me
i carry it in
my heart
i am never without it
anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling.
 
 i fear no fate
for you are my fate,my sweet
i want
no world
for beautiful you are my world,my true
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
 
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
Knowles Chilled
 

♥♥♥

I  CARRY YOUR HEART

I CARRY IT IN MY HEART

 

##I Carry Your Heart – EE Cummings

Nothing More to Miss

There are moments I cannot touch…out of fear from being.

Dark, gloved hands, reaching out in leather and lace, pulling me from the sanguine times.

Floors that drop without provocation.

Shifting forest that call loud and severe.

And, yet I find, there is no voice.

Puppets and clowns amassed in bad intent.

This are the times that love and loss have lent.

I miss you when there is nothing more to miss.

I fall in love with you, each illness, each sorrow, again and again.

In the seconds that backtrack from past to present and present to future.

You are what love to be.

You are my friend.

Someone’s Someone

You were someone’s-someone, once.
Such as, those many wanting more than just enough.
A young wife given to the vow of love.
Had you not been tangled up in someone else’s blues?
Would I have known you,
the way in which I have imagined you?

Love and Diversity

 

Love does not entitle us.

Love does not offer a direct route…

blissfully,shifting… frequently in the sway of the soul.

The road to our terms of endearment…often not the same.

 

Quirky Kind of Love

She thinks my words are obscene and, peppered with perfection.

She is in awe of how I prepare for accidents and incidents…I cannot control.

The records she keeps are of all the mistakes…I have yet to own.

In and out of our blind-spots…imageedit_158_5996355660

I may believe love too often tragic.

She frequently believes any love is mystical and some sort of magic.