Anticipation

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I have loved the thought of you since dawn…

My soul was touched at twilight,

melting my five year old heart

as first stars appeared on the horizon in winter.

Whispers…

Hold my heart’s attention

like the saxophone notes

that breeze past gracing walls

as sounds drift up the stairs

stirring my eyelashes

as sleep envelops me.

For I have known the thought of you since nine…

When Alan pulled my hair and made me cry.

Not felt feelings this intense since twelve

when Michael kissed my mouth in darkness

on my childhood porch;

As she was imminently awaiting me,

the woman I could hardly wait to be.

I have heard the music of this melting voice,

my blood has turned to maple syrup more than once.

Whispers…

So intense they’ve since become

a warm caress of summer sun, ivory sand in late July.

For I have loved and lost but not as this,

knowing love and loss go hand in hand.

I still can hardly wait to feel your kiss…

This love of yours will surely be the one

that lifts my spirits higher than the plains.

Gently held in trust above the clouds,

time escaped though never lost in vain.

My arms are open wide to grasp the sun as if in reach…

praying for your touch so warm at dawn

as sleep surrounds my silent waiting heart.

Joy as this comes only once then may be gone.

For I have loved the thought of you since dawn…

and I will love the thought of you till I am gone…

 

All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd  

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Love On Wings

San Xavier Mission by Sara Fryd
San Xavier Mission by Sara Fryd

I held a mirror up to you

So you could see the fire

You carry deep

The voice you crave to share

With the hunger of years

One cannot retrieve

No matter the longing.

You reversed the mirror for me

So I could visit my own reflection

Hear my own voice, however faint…

Answers to questions asked

You, and me

Birthed in need

Watered with tears

Fed with joy

Grown strong, slowly with time

Nurtured cautiously

A tiny bird’s egg

Placed gently back inside the nest

With love, with thoughtful respect

We were created

A world that took God only seven days

Took us a lifetime

Or so it seems.

 

For Aunt Judy.  All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd

Smoky Jazz

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The wailing sounds of sadness

Of saxophones and whispering guitars

Massage my ears

The right side of my neck

A hand lingers on the inside of my thigh.

 

The small of my back

Longingly remembers the open lips

That traced my form

Still feels the caress

Of fingers placed lovingly

Like a bookmark…

In that space

That has been empty

Of you…

 

Like my soul

That knows the warmth of your touch

But has forgotten the feeling of you

           this long.

All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd