Our love grows only stronger each day we’re alive.
As time marches forward each day we will thrive.
No negatives in our minds only pluses fill that space.
Our hearts are beating loudly and doubt has no place.
We’ll age together blissfully as the gray comes into view.
We’ll keep our spirits young, what else can we do?
We laugh when appropriate and sometimes when it’s not.
We’ll kiss when the moment’s right; I know there’ll be a lot.
We’ll watch our children grow and bear children of their own.
They’ll see the love we share and how that love is grown.
Once we were the students, now it’s time to teach.
Our lesson being love, then nothing’s out of reach.
Almost sixty, though I’m not quite there.
But I’ve learned some things I’d like to share.
First; get up early and watch the sun rise.
Then the world will get brighter before your eyes.
Indulge your passions whenever you can.
Allow yourself time and have a plan.
Make others happy and they’ll do the same.
Accept your mistakes when you’re to blame.
Give freely your love and never resist.
Make the most of life’s many turns and twists.
Take note of the bad but never complain.
Look for the good and don’t dwell on the pain.
This list could run on but I’d rather not preach.
Though it’s always important to learn and to teach.
So just one more thing before I go;
If you’re in love, be sure you let them know.
Passion and enthusiasm, an underrated pair,
age has no meaning when there’s two to share.
Every touch a new tingle and kissing’s sublime.
The universe commanded until the end of time.
Days filled with laughter with a lover and best friend.
Evenings like a fairy tale and always a happy end.
The stars shine their light to make our faces glow.
The sun beams its warmth to help our bodies grow.
Lives are for learning and teaching all to love.
The lessons we create will make us rise above.
And this world we know could be all the more fit,
if only more P. E. we all would commit.
I sit and wait for words to flow.
Where they’ll take me I never know.
I’ve danced with stars and commanded the sea.
I’ve chatted with wizards that look just like me.
My hand’s my wand to wave to and fro.
My mind’s the place we always go.
My eyes have absorbed many a sight.
My ears heard thunder and “I love you, goodnight”.
My life’s been shaped by uncertainty,
striving always to be not me.
Seconds have crept and years have flown.
I’ve learned some things best unknown.
Yet time is for shaping, both future and past.
The now unmoldable, it happens to fast.
Love has been felt, now again every day.
On carpets we ride and on clouds we lay.
Age has taught me many new things;
the less one cries the more one sings.
The more one loves the less there’s hate.
And the more one laughs the happier the mate.
Online dating, what a trip,
in the Arctic I’d rather strip.
It’s a place without written rules.
And the poet’s craft bears no jewels.
A sea of faces afloat on a screen,
choices made virtually unseen.
Definitions there have little meaning,
optimistic opinions largely leaning.
While kisses await when on track,
misplaced words lead to a smack.
The high and lows beyond compare,
all’s to expose if you dare.
Much can be learned about ourselves,
surprises abound when one delves.
While at this stage of life options few,
reality’s virtue’s now less true.
Fates may collide with a single click,
or hopes shattered just as quick.
Now looking forward and thinking back,
my head types with a clack.
There once an old dude,
who was quite crude,
the town folk thought him rude.
After many a year in love he fell,
his flame however said “go to hell”.
His desires she’d never quell.
A stormy winter slowly passed by.
Accustomed to rejection, the dude wasn’t shy.
And persistent he was to always ask why.
The spring finally came,
his flame stayed the same,
himself the dude thought to blame.
The summer surely hot,
the dude surely not,
his cool long since shot.
Autumn’s bluster in the air,
his flame did flicker, he did flare.
The time had tempered each with care.
With a Christmas snow soon to arrive,
fire and ice made water to dive.
His flame’s heart thawed and their love did thrive.
With each day we do learn,
life is more than we yearn.
Responsibilities never end,
more to share and to lend.
We give and take for others sake,
returns in kind for us to make.
Care is given when received.
Truth abounds when not deceived.
Time propels, weights constrain,
with each second the past we gain.
Hearts and minds of equal measure,
balance stacked for us to treasure.
Skies brighten and again to dim.
Stars don’t shine on a whim.
Thinking love, feeling wise,
tomorrow’s I hear are before our eyes.
After years and years of ups and downs,
when value of self’s been pennies on the pound,
love’s been vaulted and disappeared,
old friends lost and new to be found.
The body waivers and minds forget.
Wisdom comes and goes in equal ration.
Time’s rushed but waiting improves.
And all’s well when life has passion.
A poet doomed I’ve started believe’n.
The odds it seems much better than even.
T’was born on an even day, month and year.
And I’m a Libra to boot, if you care.
An INFP, I think that means I feel stuff.
And if that alone wasn’t enough,
I’m fair of skin, odd of weight and six feet even.
A poet doomed and my name’s even Steven.
I must be hell bent for pain,
am I a fool or just insane?
My head’s in the clouds, hearts on my sleeve.
A feeling love I feel will relieve.
What an idiot I must be,
thinking love will set me free.
Past love’s brought happiness and hurt.
The last threw me to the dirt.
What kind of jerk am I?
After weeks and weeks wishing to die,
I remain hell bent for the pain.
What’s a little agony when heavens to gain?
With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.
I want to write more love poems
and I want to do it soon.
I don’t want to write of heartache.
I want to snuggle beneath the moon.
I want to write more love poems
and express the love in my heart.
I want them to inspire
and be reminders when apart.
I want to write more love poems
and share one each and every day.
I want to write more love poems,
but to rush is not the way.
I’m sick of heartbreak; it’s time to move past.
But this isn’t a love poem, that’d be too fast.
I won’t be pondering heaven or hell.
So where does a recovering poet dwell.
Whether writers block or writer’s cramp,
a king of yore or disheveled tramp,
I’ve a reign of reams at my command.
I’ve time and space in my hand.
I’ve a rocket ship that’s faster than light.
I dance with spirits in the night.
I’ve helmed a ship through stormy seas,
wrestled a friend in a hive of bees.
I’ve felt love and feel it missed.
A new day’s today and sunshine kissed.
And though this poem has no middle or end,
it’s a blip in cyberspace, again to send.
The irony of poetry is empathy’s hard.
For the poet must feel without regard.
A give and take crossroads born,
the soul deep, the deeper torn.
The weight of words a heavy load,
if not to express then to implode,
Fictional thought won’t save the day.
The reality is hearts bleed anyway.
As a boy I walked the beach every day.
I stared at the horizon to find my way.
Visions of tomorrow filled my head;
days without fear and a true love to wed.
Ripples between obscured the view.
Sink or swim’s all I could do.
Years thrashing to stay afloat,
my life preserver’s gone and I no boat.
From the storm a distant shore arose.
Memories conjured with sand between her toes.
With a youthful splash and mind in the skies,
yesterday’s future floated before my eyes.
Was a summer returned, the same and new.
That time’s now gone but dreams came true.
The boy now grown, ending his wait.
If a past meant to be it wouldn’t be late.
One shouldn’t settle so not to wait.
Fair’s not fair and good’s not great.
Red flags fly so not too late.
Half a heart can’t seal a fate.
Days pass with us or without.
Some have promise, some doubt.
Some will whisper some will shout.
Some things felt, some thought about.
We all have faults, some have two.
Some have more, some quite a few.
So know your own, that’ll do.
Then you know what’s best for you.
Strokes broad and canvas wide,
pros and cons help decide.
Time tells us we cannot hide.
Our choices made; behind or beside.
I worry about writing, I worry when not.
I worry too much, I worry a lot.
The past I feel and the future I see.
Factor’s deduced and nothing’s free.
Can it be afforded, an unknowable time?
Can life be spent on rhythm and rhyme?
Can I feel without getting hurt?
Can I grow without eating dirt?
Chained to my pen, the outside looms.
In dusty volumes this life entombs.
Can pages torn be chapters shared?
If a binding’s broke should fate be dared?
Sheets to the wind, covers tossed.
My quill floats off, I am lost.
Paces excel and alter trips forgot.
Will the sunshine burn, I worry a lot.
She was placed on a pedestal.
And I was kicked I the face.
She jumped off.
I fell from grace.
I let my guard down.
And I exposed my heart.
And in the blink of her eye,
I was missing a part.
I opened hundreds of doors.
And heard one slammed.
Our time swept smoothly.
And now it’s jammed.
To express my love,
I took a chance.
I gave her my song.
And she couldn’t dance.
Can you hear it, it’s all around?
The mind is still, there’s not a sound.
Eyes see there’s nothing new.
But change felt, the outside’s blue.
The darkest hours now muted.
Beating seconds, time’s diluted.
In my heart the view less shaded.
In my soul the hue’s faded.
Digging deep to find the light,
shadows shorten out of sight.
Echo’s silent, notes scream.
Good nights calling, again to dream.
I’m starting to feel better, not there yet.
Answers I need but questions I get.
Who am I and what’s next?
Right now I’m tired, cranky and perplexed.
The day’s new, the sun’s yet to rise.
Doubts abound but no surprise.
Time has dealt an iffy hand.
Do I fold or do I stand?
Decks stacked with shuffled years,
never straight, too few pairs.
Confusion reigns and I’m the king.
Does a queen await, will we sing?
Love’s been felt and then lost.
Betting hearts has a cost.
There’ll be no diamonds anytime soon.
Spades have dug, my mind’s strewn.
Life’s no game and love’s no joke.
The clubs have beaten, my bank’s broke.
But play I must every day.
While aces I wait to come my way.
Four weeks now to the day.
A text though shared, but little to say.
Is a window open, should I slip through?
I do still love her, what am I to do?
A second chance’s a second guess.
My head says no, my heart says yes.
I’ve now to decide if again to pursue.
Will I still love me if I do?
I’m still hurt and a little mad.
But I miss her so much it makes me sad.
She broke my heart, snapped it in two.
Did she ever love me, what would she do?
It’s a neutral day, no ups or downs.
Not many smiles but fewer frowns.
The vibrancy of the past’s gone away.
There’s little to color when mind’s gray.
I woke today, dreams expired.
Futures drag when uninspired.
When words the medium, life’s art.
I feel a need to write a new start.
Tomorrows verse never complete.
Pictures in the heart with time compete.
Why should I run when I can rhyme?
Exercise is always worth the time.
I’ve written of dying, it doesn’t end well.
I wrote of death, questioned heaven and hell.
I scribed my love but that got old.
And of course heartbreak, a story retold.
So I’ll collect my notes of yesterdays.
I’ll rearrange them in other ways.
And with my yellow wand I’ll wave my hand.
Then reappear to see where I land.