Working Title: Perfect Moment

The doorbell rang.  “What time is it?  7:30!  Damn!  She’s early!”

Mike had been seeing Erin for several weeks but this was the first time he had invited her to his house.  He was making good on a promise made when they first met.  He told her that he was a great cook and she naturally didn’t believe him.  So as any good pub hero would do, he promised to cook for her sometime; never really thinking about the consequences as they danced around one another.  Mike rushed around the kitchen in an attempt to make a go of it.  It was abundantly clear that he wasn’t a great cook. 

He quickly straightened himself out before going to the door.  Mike took a deep breath, put on his smile and opened it.  He saw Erin standing there with her back to the door as she seemed to take in the view.

“Well are ya gonna stand there all slack-jawed and gawking, or are ya gonna come on in?”  Mike asked in his usual sarcastic tone.

Erin turned and looked up at him.  “Just never you mind, Mister, I was just checking out the scenery!”  With a smile, she reached up and kissed Mike as she scooted past him on her way inside.  “I thought you said to dress comfortable?  I didn’t know that meant slacks!”  Erin stood there in her favorite pair of faded Levi’s with torn up knees, a small white top, and flip flops.

“Oh, I did say that!  I just haven’t had time to change clothes yet, with the cooking and all.”

“You get dressed up to cook?

“No, Smartass, I had to go to the office today!  You want a glass of wine?”

Erin followed Mike toward the kitchen.  “I’d rather have a beer if you have one.”

“Ah, a woman after my own heart!  Do you want that in a glass?”

“Just out of the can or bottle is fine with me; as long as it’s cold!”

“Like music to my ears!”  Mike turned around from the fridge, nearly running Erin over. 

“Whoa there, Tiger!”  She looked up at him with a sweet smile and batted her blue-green eyes as she took the beer from his hand.

“Make yourself at home.  I’m gonna go get out of these clothes and put on something a little more… wrinkly”

Erin casually looked around.  She spotted Mike’s iPod® sitting in its dock.  She picked it up and began scrolling his music library, “He likes Norah Jones?”

Erin looked toward the bedroom and hollered, “You like Norah Jones!”  She could see a shirtless Mike through the crack of the ajar door and admired his muscular shoulders.  She ogled his large tribal ink on his left shoulder.

“What are you talking about?”  Mike hollered back.

“On your iPod®. You have Norah Jones!  Looks like all of Norah Jones!”

“Ok.  Yeah, I’m busted.  It uh, helps me get to sleep!”

"Huh, he like Norah Jones," Erin thought as she returned the iPod® to the doc.  Norah started singing low and soft in the background.  Mike returned to Erin wearing his own holey jeans and his favorite vintage KISS Asylum tour concert t-shirt.

“So, I don’t have to be back in the kitchen for about another 20 minutes,” Mike said. “Would you like to go out onto the patio?”

Erin followed Mike out onto the large patio. She was pleasantly surprised by the warm  resort-like feeling of it.  Mike had been keeping this magnificent secret behind his commonplace home.  He clearly spent a lot of time out here.  There was a nice sunken gas fire pit with a couple of curved wooden benches complete with over stuffed cushions.  There was also a sealed box there with blankets inside.  The patio was made of paving brick that gave a warm and rustic feel. 

Beyond the fire pit was a Gazebo that covered an outdoor kitchen with granite counter tops that were at bar height where people could sit.  The gazebo was lighted and had two ceiling fans as well as a couple of flat screen TV’s mounted up in diagonal corners.  There was also an outdoor table that was nicely set for two people; a candle already flickering in the evening calm.  Mosquito nets were tied back in all four openings of the large Gazebo.

Beyond the decadent elegance of the patio was a spectacular west-facing view. Mike lived in the northwestern suburbs of Denver, far enough out to have home with enough land for horses.  The house was situated at the east end of a grassy valley that rose to the foothills of the Rockies.  Horses roamed in the valley below as the falling sun began to extend its crown of pink and gold light over the mountains.  Mike and Erin took a cozy seat in the fire pit facing the sunset; Norah’s soulful sound seemed to quietly fill the air as if coming from everywhere.

"You didn't say anything about this outdoor palace, " said Erin with an impressed sarcasm.

"I'm a bit of a tinkerer," said Mike," I have been building this patio for about three years.  This is my place of solace.  I have found that building this, has helped me to sort my thoughts.  It's sort of like how runners sometimes run to clear their heads.  I've been alone a long time and it can sometimes get pretty cluttered inside my own brain.  I don't know if I'll ever stop working back here.  I have plans to add a water feature.  It's a river that starts back there behind the gazebo and wraps around the front of the patio and ends up down there in a small pond."

"I'm a runner.  Well, a very slow runner.  I do find the urge to run when my day has been very hectic so I understand about needing to clear your head.  Now that I think about it, I haven't felt the need to run for that reason since I met you.  What does that mean?"

Just then, Mike and Erin locked eyes.  Both of them sheepishly looked down with soft smiles on their faces. 

To be continued???

Changes

Changes

Change my look, change my name.

Change my heart, change my fame,

Living strong, feeling weak.

Fear is life, love we seek.

Change my job, change my home.

Change the places, where I roam

Feeling good, hiding sad,

Keep on smiling, suppress the bad

Change my love, change my dreams

Change my views, change extremes.

One more minute, in the past

A dying life, gone too fast.

Change my verse, change my tune

Change my sun, change my moon,

Leave it all, the pain is great

Starting fresh, a brand-new fate.

Change it back, change it not

Change too fast, change too hot

Where am I, lost in me.

Who’s the person, I now see

Change my home, change my heart

Change myself, change my start

A familiar face, a familiar numb,

Bring me back, before I succumb.

© m.henry, 2007

Seven of Hearts

You are so close to me, 

We are one,

I feel when you love,

I feel when you hurt

I feel the many ways, 

In which you torture yourself,

In which you torture us

You are so gentle,

So loving, and so pure,

It hurts me so,

To watch you bleed over and over,

To feel you bleed

You cannot help it,

You need to love,

You need to feel,

You need to heal

Why do you torment me this way?

Time after time,

It hurts me just the same,

Yet I allow it to continue,

Always following you in,

To places filled with pain,

Places filled with regret.

I let you fool me,

Even when I know it is foolish to do so,

I want to believe your naïve truth,

And I want to feel your love.

I know you so well,

My foolish lover,

With whom I share my secrets,

And I still believe in you,

Even after all these years,

And all the anguish we’ve endured.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt your elation,

Maybe it’s time we give it a rest,

And let fate have a go,

My dear lonely heart.

© m.henry, 2007

Still

Still

It began long ago.

Long ago with a yearning,

A yearning to see your smiling face,

Your smiling face and your sparkling eyes

It was a yearning to feel the touch of your hand,

As how our hearts lightly touched so long ago

It passed so quickly.

So quickly and I had not the chance,

Not the chance, I had not the courage to pull you in

It’s a dance we’ve shared all our lives,

Synchronicity shall not be had

We orbit like planets too far from the sun

Our passings brief, our love fleeting,

Yet the sun still dimly shines upon us,

As the path ahead is shorter than the path behind

At each passing, I get older and grayer,

You remain as radiant as I remember you

It’s an ache

An ache that I’ve known all my life

All my life, an ache that is a part of me now,

A part of me that I can not let go of.

Fate and Time are cruel masters,

That promise much, but deliver little,

The ache remains.

It remains as a better ache,

Than the emptiness left behind

I love the thought of you still,

Even if our orbits do not pass again

© m.henry 2017

I Am The Storm

Fear me for I am the storm

I’m the destroyer of your heart’s destiny,

It’s your reality I will transform,

Fear me for I am the storm,

It’s with my heart you are adorned,

Love me with your fierce intensity,

Fear me for I am the storm,

I’m the destroyer of your heart’s destiny

Take cover from my leaden skies,

Do not open yourself to me,

Do not admire my breezy disguise,

Take cover from my leaden skies,

Do not bask in my temperature rise,

Don’t listen to what your eyes see,

Take cover from my leaden skies,

Do not open yourself to me

Fear me for I am the storm

Do not open yourself to me,

Take cover from my leaden skies,

I’m the destroyer of your heart’s destiny.

© m.henry 2018

Living in The Shadows - Short Story

Living in The Shadows

Benny never wanted much.  He was a simple man who worked hard and tried to live right.  His house was small, tidy and sparsely decorated but elegant in its simplicity.  His yard was finely manicured with a few shrubs and a tree in the middle of the front lawn. Outside and in, Benny’s house was nice and vanilla.  Benny drove a compact American car that he also kept immaculate.  It was practical and unassuming, perhaps what some would consider boring.  But that didn’t bother Benny.  He was content inside the rut in which he resided.

Like his house and car, Benny was as average as they came.  He was well groomed.  His hair and fingernails always cut, shoes shined and always wrinkle free.  As an accountant, Benny was fortunate to not to have to wear a suit to work.  Instead he always wore a plain or striped button down shirt with Dockers style slacks; never anything too bright or flashy.  Overall, Benny was a handsome fellow, but highly reserved and very plain.

Benny didn’t go out very often with anyone he worked with nor did he have any close friends that offered him an entertaining outlet.  He was dependable and never missed a colleague’s birthday, or a chance to wish someone well or offer them congratulations.  When Benny’s colleagues and few friends would talk to him, he was always gracious and quietly charming.  He was always there to lend a hand to a neighbor or an ear to a friend.  Yet, Benny spent most of his days quietly working away at his desk in his small sanitary cubicle.  When he was not busy maintaining his lifestyle, Benny would sometimes go on a hike over the nearby walking trails.  He used that time to clear his head and unwind from the world.  He would really enjoy these walks when he had something on his mind.

Benny would spend his spare time writing long mental monologues about his thoughts that no one would ever see.  He maintained several volumes of writings that he never read, nor would he ever read.  Benny wrote because he was alone in the world, with few to share his thoughts.  He used writing as a tool to solve his own dilemmas.  It forced him to sort out his thoughts to get them on paper.  It seemed like it worked well and he was content with his solitary life.  Benny realized that he was writing much more frequently, but he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him.

Benny began to slip at work.  He sometimes arrived late and he started to miss a deadline here and there.  He occasionally started to forego the ritualistic yard and home care that brought him so much pride, because he was spending all of his time writing.  For most, this would seem just like an occurrence of life, but for Benny, tardiness and untimely work were unheard of.  Yet these slips went unnoticed within his office, and on his block, because within Benny’s average perfection, he began to achieve average all around.

One day Benny started to feel ill.  He assumed it was just a bug.  He hadn’t been sick in many years so he was unsure.  He thought it best to take a day off work to try and get well.  But Benny didn’t get any better.  His symptoms of sickness got worse and the over-the-counter medications were not relieving his flu-like symptoms.  Benny decided he would take the rest of the week off and see a doctor.  He made an appointment but couldn’t get in before next Monday, four days away.  Benny climbed back into bed and went to sleep.

Monday’s doctor appointment came and went, but Benny was a no-show.  The office assistant called his house to reschedule but only got the answering machine.  The following Friday, Benny failed to show up for the monthly department meeting at work.  His boss asked if anyone had seen him, but nobody was sure if they had.  The following Tuesday, Benny’s boss looked for him at his desk and didn’t find him.  He again asked around the office if anyone had seen Benny.  Nobody knew for sure.  He called Benny’s home and got the answering machine.  The next day came and still no Benny.  Finally his boss called the police to make a courtesy visit to Benny’s home.

The police arrived a little over an hour later and knocked on Benny’s door.  No answer. The police then asked the neighbors.  Nobody knew if they had seen him.  The police decided to enter Benny’s home.  They found him in bed, just where he had laid down two weeks earlier.

Benny was cremated, and services were held four days later.  It was attended by just seven people.  He had no will and his estate was taken by the state.  Benny had a life insurance policy that covered his debts and funeral expenses.  Nothing remained but his journals.

One of Benny’s neighbors offered to pack up some of his things and she found the stack of journals.  She began to read them from the most recent, backward.  She had felt moments of levity as she read, but mostly she cried.  She cried for hours as she continued to read, and she cried for hours afterword, knowing that Benny died alone and unloved.  Within the beautiful loving stories and poems and random thoughts, she realized that Benny was just that; desperately lonely and unloved.  She realized that within the pages of Benny’s journals, lived the most beautiful, romantic, loving soul that she never took the time to meet; that nobody ever took the time to know.  It was then she realized it was not the flu that took Benny, it was a broken heart.  Benny wanted to love; he wanted a family.  He simply wanted a companion to share his thoughts with, but Benny was overlooked by everyone because he never rocked the boat.  He lived a decent and honorable life and he was invisible because there was nothing special in anything he did, except to do it perfectly; simply.

Benny’s neighbor took his ashes and spread them on the wind, high in the Rocky Mountains after reading that it was Benny’s favorite place on earth.

Sleep well, Benny.

© m.henry, 2010

Awakening - A short Story

Awakening - Short Story

So, what do you want out of life?" Kendra asked as they sipped their after-dinner coffee.

Frank was taken aback but knew full well the question was coming. He hesitated with his answer.

"Frank, what is it you want out of life?" Kendra asked again. "I don't mean right this second, but later on?" She knew that's not what she meant as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

Frank sighed, "You shouldn't ask questions that will get you answers you are not ready to hear,' he warned. His look was one of apprehension and concern.

Kendra sat back in her chair and looked down at her coffee. She was frustrated with the stonewalling and short answers she'd get when they would dance onto this subject. She closed her eyes for a moment to try to keep her emotions in check then pressed Frank a little more. "I think I should be able to judge when I'm ready for something. We've been seeing each other for eight and half weeks as of tonight, and I still feel like I don't know anything about you. We talk all the time, yet you say nothing. You send me flowers and cards, and my phone is full of your texts that are loaded with innuendos-"

Just then, the waiter returned with the dinner receipt. Frank placed his card back in his wallet and scribbled his signature across the bill. "I think we should head out," he said with seemingly little more than an acknowledgement to Kendra's plea.

Kendra's frustration grew as they quietly sipped their coffee before getting up to leave. They exited The Grille on Paseo de San Antonio and walked to the right to get to South Market Street. It was a beautiful evening in San Jose as the sun started to dip low. The summer sky was ablaze with the sun's last rays of the evening. Across Market Street, to the west, Plaza de Cesar Chavez Park was serene with the trees casting early night.

They turned north on South Market and slowly strolled a short distance with Kendra wrapped closely around Frank's arm. They were a striking couple, a pair that would make movie stars jealous. Both professionals in the tech industry, it was important to keep up appearances. Frank was tall and wore slacks or khakis most of the time. He also wore long-sleeve button down shirts to cover a couple of tattoos from his earlier, wilder years. This night he was wearing a sport coat. His dark hair was short and messy and he always kept a clean shave. Kendra was equally as stunning. She was athletic but not too thin. She had dishwater hair that flowed in buttery spirals down to the middle of her back, and she looked especially beautiful with the setting sun in her hair, complimenting her blue eyes.

When they reached the front of The Fairmont Hotel, Frank said to Kendra, "I'm not ready to take you home. Let's go in for a drink." Kendra agreed.

They entered the grand and luxurious lobby of the Fairmont Hotel. It was earthy in various shades of marble and granite. Once past the foyer, the room opened up to a large sunken area that was filled with overstuffed couches and armchairs intimately arranged in groups around coffee tables. On the back wall was a bar stocked with the finest spirits for the discerning pallets of their clientele. In front and to the right of the bar, a pianist sat at a baby grand, softly noodling away at contemporary melodies. It was a place to be lavished and it was a place to relax.

Kendra led Frank down into the bar area and found a softly lit table with an inviting loveseat. A waitress was quick to take their drink orders. "Good evening! Welcome to The Fairmont. My name is April, and I'll be your hostess for the evening."

"Good evening, April, I'm Frank and this is Kendra. Kendra would like-"

Kendra interrupted Frank, "I'll take a Cosmopolitan."

"And for you, Sir?" Asked April.

"I'll have Ciroc on the rocks with a lemon twist," answered Frank.

With that, April scurried away to get their drinks. "Why do you always try to order for me?" Asked Kendra.

"Honey, look at me." Kendra looked Frank in the eyes. "There are things you should know about me and it's time for me to step up and tell you."

Kendra felt a little uneasy with the way Frank was setting her up. She took a deep breath, "What is it? I really need to know more about you, but now I'm concerned that this isn't going to be good. You're not married are you?"

Frank hesitated.

"That's it! I can't believe it! You're mar-,"

Frank interrupted her. "I'm not married Kendra, at least not yet-"

"Oh my god, then you're engaged and I'm just a… A fling? I can't believe this is-"

Frank took Kendra's hand and held it firmly between his, "I'm not engaged either. I'm as single as you are."

"Oh." Kendra closed her eyes once again to get her composure. She was relieved that she wasn't caught in some kind of sordid affair. She knew that she was falling for Frank but wasn't ready to let him know it. She saw him as the one man she could really find happiness with, even with as little as she felt she knew about him. It was electric when they were together. When they spoke, Kendra felt deeply connected to Frank, as though they had known each other their entire lives. He made her feel secure and content and he somehow made her feel complete in a way she had never known. "I was afraid that this was going someplace I didn't want to be."

When Kendra opened her eyes, she saw April returning with their drinks, "Here you go, is there anything else I can get you?" April asked.

Frank gave April his credit card, "Please open a tab for us."

"Very well, Sir." April took his card and headed off toward the bar.

Kendra studied Frank as he looked into his drink. He was in a distant place; just staring into his glass as he gently swirled it around.  Kendra's look softened, "Frank, honey, are you all right?"

"What?  Oh yes, I'm sorry. I was just..." Frank trailed off as he drifted back into thought.

Kendra sat back in her seat with a look of worry on her face. Frank was the most focused person she knew, and he always said exactly what he was thinking. "Baby, didn't you want to say something? Kendra asked in a comforting tone.

Frank continued to stare into his glass, "Do you remember the first time you fell in love?"

Kendra was a little surprised by the question, "Yes. Yes, I do. I was sixteen. Why do you ask?"

"Tell me about it." Frank replied.

"Why do you want to know that? Its ancient water under-"

Frank interrupted her, "Please, Kendra, tell me about your first love." His voice was soft with a hint of urgency.

Kendra began.  "I was a junior in high school. His name was Kevin and he was on the diving team. I was on the swim team then, and I'd see him practicing. When I wasn't doing laps or running practice heats, I was watching him. He was lean and tall and his smile would light up a room and give me butterflies." Kendra chuckled a little as she remembered.

Frank watched Kendra as she spoke. Her eyes looked up as she remembered, and a soft playful innocence appeared on her face. He found himself gasping at the beauty she held at that moment. Kendra continued. "Finally, we started talking one day after practice." Kendra smiled. "He would make me laugh and I was so happy when I was with him. I loved him. I really loved him. We dated for the remainder of the year." Kendra's face became serious. "Kevin was a senior and… At the end of the school year, he broke up with me and went away to college. It was the last time I saw him. He broke my heart."

Kendra looked down at her drink and took a sip, not wanting to make eye contact at that moment. "I'm not sure I ever really got over him."

Frank slid closer to Kendra and took her hand in one of his, and with the other, caressed her cheek and lifted her chin so she was looking him in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to lead you to that place in time."

Kendra sighed. "It's not that..."  Kendra looked down again.  "It's just that I have the same kinds of feelings when I'm with you, and I don't know what we are doing."  Kendra's eyes became glassy and her voice began to quiver.  "What are we doing, Frank?"

"I’ll gladly answer that question. But, first I need you to promise me something. I need you to swear that anything I tell you stays just between us. Can you do that, Kendra?" Frank asked with a firmness and urgency that alarmed Kendra.

"What is it?"

"You have to promise, Kendra. I need you to promise."

"Frank, you are beginning to scare me."

"Promise me, Kendra, please. Just promise me."

"Okay, I promise that it will stay between us; completely between us."

"Kendra, I've seen things… And I've done things. I've been places I want to forget. I feel like you need to know because I owe you that much. I owe you an explanation."

"You have me frightened. Please just tell me…"

"Where to begin, where to begin…" Frank mumbled. He was clearly agitated as he began to wring his hands, as if trying to wash the stains of his past off of him. He began to look pale as he remembered things; his breath beginning to quicken. "I was a sophomore in college…" Frank began.

To be continued... someday...

© m.henry, 2009

Autumn's Embrace

Autumn's Embrace

Shadows grow long, and I grow cold,

While leaves wither, relenting to the season

Yellow and brown, they fall like teardrops,

Foreboding days to come

Windows closed tight keep the voices and damp chill 

From invading, for awhile

Shades drawn adumbrate my view of dark desolation,

Where once marigolds mingled with lilies,

And bees, conveyed their love,

And birds flitted about, spreading their gossip

Now barren trees lurk like wraiths,

And stab at me in the night.

Icy winds creep under the door,

Ripping shade from window

I am diminished and my soul weeps,

As my fortress of lies crumbles within me

I feel the chill of halls left empty,

No chorus to sing; only your echoes remain

No light to guide me

No fool's charade to comfort me

I am naked, exposed to truth

I am forsaken, silence prevails

I am afraid, my soul empty and unguarded

I have fallen, into autumn's embrace

© m.henry  2007

Elephants Can't Jump

Elephants Can't Jump

What if bats and monkeys were one in the same,
And Lemon Meringue was a trick sans treat?
What if the faithful lemmings stop to follow,
A Hoboken Tramp whose days number none too few,
Would your heart of hearts feel differently tomorrow,
If I said to you that elephants can’t jump?

It is often said that the first step to flying is to jump,
But once in the unknown, is it not all the same?
If you no longer yearn for yesterday, or fear tomorrow,
Is it an unfathomable thing to think that today’s treat,
Becomes regret when the heartbeats become too few,
And the path not taken was the clear path to follow?

When your heart leads and your head does not follow,
Will there be a safety net when you choose to jump?
So when you grab for that minute, then struggle for a few,
How will you feel when it all ends the same?
For a sublime delight today is not always a treat,
When the ferryman collects his toll tomorrow.

When you look to the past, will it comfort you tomorrow?
Do you not see the way in the forked road to follow?
It cannot work for we are a flawed treat,
Because over the alligators, I cannot not jump.
We share this road, but are not one in the same,
And the hours together are all too few.

You were not meant for events brief and few,
Your heart is delicate but your spirit lives for tomorrow,
Where love given and received is the same,
And where your soul leads, others will follow.
There is no pit of alligators to jump,
And life truly endeavors to offer a treat.

Love everlasting, there is no greater treat,
For an old elephant like me, the opportunities are few,
And truth be told, elephants can’t jump,
And I’ll still love you long after tomorrow,
But where you lead, I cannot follow,
Because that alligator pit is still the same

Consider this one last treat when you think about me tomorrow,
I’ll cherish our minutes few, and my soul will give follow.
Elephants can’t jump, life remains the same.

© m.henry 2010

The Trouble With My Heart Is Its Memory

Warmth of the setting sun upon my face,
Leaves me wanton of another good day,
The shadow of your loving memory,
Grows long inside my achy, broken heart,
The autumn leaves around my feet grow deep,
The winds of change blow out a flaming love

If I forget about you, I forget about love,
If only I could see your beautiful face,
And into your beautiful eyes gaze deep,
To know for sure if your words are true this day,
And if I should keep you inside my beating heart,
Or fade like a tattered classic to memory

Your infectious laugh preys on memory,
A sound that I will always cherish and love,
That on darkest night warms my lonely heart,
In my mind I see your smiling face,
And it helps me through on many a day,
Because within my soul you’ve anchored deep.

The first is not the only cut that’s deep,
There are many that fill my memory.
The cut I earned from you on this sad day,
Reminds me of the bitterness of lost love,
I hide the pain behind an ambivalent face,
And place a cage around my fragile heart.

It tastes like ash when the poison hits my heart,
And it courses my veins into my soul deep,
The years, it will put clearly on my face,
Will serve as permanent memory,
And a scarlet letter for those who love.
I am a broken man on this lonely day. –

I’ve loved and lost on this sad, dark day,
My eyes filled pieces of broken heart,
Betrayed by a blinding trust in pure love,
My faith profoundly rocked to my core deep
Pure thoughts turn to bad tainted memory.
How I wish I could again see your face

At the end of the day my love runs deep,
The trouble with my heart is its memory
Love looked best when seen on your face

m.henry 2013

Emergence

Emergence

The sun slipped behind the moon,

and the Raven wailed at the midnight sun,

This darkness is unnatural;

You found your heart where you left it,

And retrieved it from its chrysalis,

In the cool noon darkness,

You slipped away ,

To more fertile ground to replant your heart

© m.henry 2018

Liquid Blue

Toiling my life away in a place not meant for me,
Where sadness rules a meaningless hallucination,
In a world meant for glass eyes and plastic smiles,
And choice is only an illusion for the unfree.

In the soft half-light of Neaera’s arrival,
My waking thoughts turn to you,
The softness of your smile and eyes of Pacific blue,
Offering me a love pure and unrivaled.

Wishing these lonely dime store dreams,
Brought respite from the burned-out souls,
And blacktop soldiers filling city streets,
With their cold steel suicide machines.

I see you clearly in that place,
Far away from the soul stealing city,
In vivid green and liquid blue you beckon my heart,
Into the reality of your sublime grace.

A place meant for lovers of tomorrow and before,
Where my dreams of you are not my fantasy,
And my heart is full of your contentment and love,
A place where dreamers love and imagination creates,
To save me my madness, You should have never opened that door.

© M.Henry, 2018

Written for:

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 13.11 Topic: Somewhere Over the Rainbow

BONUSES:

Hard Bonus (2 pts): Include a Ramones lyric (From "Leave Home")

Easy Bonus (1 pts): Incorporate an ocean (Pacific Blue Eyes)

Last Look

I still remember that last look,
Like the tree remembers
Autumn’s chill winds,
taking its last dried memento of summer

I swim there,
In the sparkling oceans of your eyes,
Forever adrift with your unmoored love,
That moves within the currents of another life

To look into your eyes,
Feel the warmth of your smile,
Caress away the sadness,
From your fragile heart

To breath life into my leaf,
So I can keep my dream safe from chill winds
Knowing that it was something more
For all these long years without you

© M.henry 2018