Here are a couple of excerpts from the title ‘Scarecrow’, available on kindle through amazon. It tells the tale of an admirer and how he won the heart of the person he adored for years.
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Green eyes, how oddly ironic.
Staring into the reflective color of my own
that have, at one time, made my gaze iconic.
Tracking down what lies behind
In a passive gesture to introduce myself
To parts of this woman’s unsettled mind.
She listens; then breaks away.
Into lectures of her past and her mistakes.
Promises that promote a desire to stay.
What is her perception of me?
What could she see in someone so opposite?
Or, does she possess a deeper need to be?
Below the surface of initially, exists a cloister of all.
The good, the bad, within the nebbish,
together make a good conversation for reality.
She listens more closely to my unknown taboo.
Fascinated and distant at the words enveloping her.
Her sense of fright leaving with every Boo!
Turbulence amid feeling allows me to be her guide.
Her realistic perspective, meets my diligent mind.
Settled in youth now looks into a heart open wide.
Be-set that our gaze is unquestioned authority
Allowed and surrounded by the inner sets of antiquity
That alone makes me comfortable referring to her as my Persephone.
I cannot help but to look at a picture of this pulchritudinous woman.
All the things she makes me feel are nothing shy of being human.
We knew this would be hard at times, coordinating our moments alone.
We’re writing letters with pen…on paper…and speaking on the phone.
We engage secretly in quiet, open spaces. So we can see each other’s devious faces.
Yet, we hold together a truer foundation built over the years of missed embraces.
With a fondness and devotion towards the care of one-anothers heart.
This love we share is saddest in the bittersweet moments when we must part.
I hold-fast to the way I love her and keep resolute with my constitution.
She sees me for the way I am and this frees her from tired absolution.
We’re building something…a future, perhaps…we’re seeing each other’s greater potential.
Our fledgling love has known distance as friends, and as lover’s our time spent is sentimental.
Logic does not keep rhythm to love, though in ways it helps meld the heart to the mind.
It helps us to read each other’s glances and gets us through distances so unkind.
This fragile tryst we have endeavored shows potential to end in untimely disaster.
But, I’d rather know I’m true to myself by showing her a love that serves no master.