Love is sweet Love is tender Love is something I'll always remember Love is patient Love is kind Love is always on my mind Love is pure Love is mysterious Love is all around us
I wrote these for my love @iLotus_am-your_goddess, I love most. I Love you ?? Entry 1: Entry 2: I have a heart and that is True, But now it has gone from me to you So care for it just like I do ? Because I have no heart and you have two ? Entry 3: A Song You are a ray of hope that breathe me life, You are a ray of hope that keeps me right, your beautiful smile is my soul's life. Your sensuous smile is something , I will fight for to never let u feel sad, Come to my arms right now. you are in my heart, you are in my thoughts, you are in every bit of me. you are the reason of everything I am, i feel it. You are the reason of my life, i know it. Blue like sky your eyes hypnotise, My love flies through it to your heart. During the gloomy grey sky of my life, your blue eyes show me dreams. Your inner beauty is reflected to ur eyes. Shiny relieving abode like a heaven, away from my pain. you are in my heart, you are in my thoughts, you are in every bit of me. you are the reason of everything I am, i feel it. You are the reason of my life, i know it. Your arms are where I feel home, away from the world, Soft and comforting. Your hug takes away all my worries. So much love is in it. you are the reason of everything I am, i feel it. You are the reason of my life, i know it. Let me be in your arms. Let me make you smile, Let me see the shine of your eyes, Let me feel your love, Let me fill your heart with my love, I love you, i really do. Let me love you. you are in my heart, you are in my thoughts, you are in every bit of me. you are the reason of everything I am, i feel it, you are the reason of my life. i know it.
Love in Manhattan BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Urghhhhhh. I groan as I wake up. Six a.m. I shouldn’t have stayed up that extra hour reading Kafka. Ohhhhhhhh. My hand slumps onto the alarm clock. I kick off my sheets and lie there in the stark cold. I feel the warmth that remains in my body quickly seeping away. But under my singlet it’s still warm. I rub my torso and sit up, placing my palm on the bed and swivel to dangle my legs over the edge. I slump forward and close my eyes. I put on my dressing gown and slippers, tfft, tfft, tfft, they drag on the floor as I walk to the kitchen. I pour myself some orange juice and put some bread in the toaster. I lean against the linoleum bench-top. I stare at my ugly, chipped white paint oven that sits like a little fat child in front of me. God it’s disgusting. The toast pops up; I get out a knife and butter, slather the butter fatly onto the toast, eat it in a few crunchy bites and finish my orange juice. Well. I’m ready. I go into the little cubicle that is my toilet and bathroom. I stand, let my boxers fall to the floor and just stand there taking a leak. I sigh, pull up my pants and walk to my bedroom, get dressed in my business shirt, overcoat and corduroy pants and spritz myself with some cologne. I pick up my suit-case; get the house keys and wallet from by the door. I stand there, at the door, staring at it, daring myself to make a move. I lurch forward, turn the handle and step outside into the cold. It wasn’t as cold as I’d expected: pleasantly brisk. It was foggy as usual. I turn around, close the door and lock it, then proceed down the footpath. Usually I hate the footpaths. They’re so long and if someone’s walking towards you, you see them from one hundred metres away, and the slow, slow walk towards them is very awkward. Do I make eye-contact? Do I not? Isn’t it rude not to? Do I smile? Usually I just look down and walk fast. Like a businessman. Which I am: A very busy businessman. But today, is not one of those days. There’s fog. It’s not as cold as those mornings. It’s less natural to walk briskly, but I guess the fact that I don’t have to see the people walking towards me for one hundred metres makes up for it. I can relax, look straight, and nod to the passers-by. So I do. It always does make me feel good to be nice and customary to people. Not too much further now to the bus stop. That’s a relief. As I approach the bus stop something catches my eye. My eyes open wide. It’s as if the sky has opened up, the fog has parted. As clear as summer’s day, I see her. She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and she’s just waiting there at the bus stop standing like a doe in the wood: Oblivious, classically beautiful and innocent. I swallow and head over to the bus stop as if I hadn’t just been totally spell-bound by this beautiful sprite of the foggy forest of grey that is Manhattan. I stand by the stop and have a second look to see if it’s not too good to believe. The fog may have softened her face or something. I don’t know. But no: Absolutely stunning. Just as before. I don’t know what to do. My heart starts to race. The bus is coming. I’ve never seen her before. She might be catching another bus. I might never see her again. Surely she’s already with someone. She’s so beautiful. She’s more beautiful than I am handsome or rich, or rich and handsome combined. I’m going to choke if I talk to her. What do I say? People don’t usually talk to other people on the bus. Let alone me. I’ll come across as creepy. I’ve never talked to even a soul on the bus. I bite my tongue. My heart’s racing. I wait, glancing at her every few seconds until the bus comes. We’ll see. The bus pulls up. I stand back. She gets on. I follow her on, pay my fare… The bus is quiet this time of morning. Not many people on it at all. But nobody’s talking. If I talk, everyone will hear. Look at yourself; renting a sorry little house with a sorry little oven. Her boyfriend probably has a red Ferrari and a big ******. I can’t compete. I’m still biting my tongue. I open a window to cool down. Everyone looks at me like I’m insane and tells me to shut it. She also looked at me. I say sorry to everyone. She looks away. Damn. My heart would have swelled to the size of a cantaloupe if she’d looked at me for just one more second. I’m never going to see her again. I look out the bus window into the fog. I wonder if she’s out there. Somewhere in Manhattan, in one of those sky-rises that I know so surely is there. I pray she is a building, definite. Or is she a rainbow above the clouds? I pray for both. Oh how grey it is now… I’m startled back to reality as the bus slows to a halt. This isn’t my stop though. I look up towards the front and see her back, her long, black hair walking away, swaying to her angelic step. Walking off the bus: should I run and ask her for her address, name, a date? That’d be weird and it’d draw so much attention. What a fool I’d have to be to do that. Hmph. She’s too good for me anyway. I turn back to the window, the door closes, the bus begins to move and once again I am totally absorbed into the fog. My eyes go through the glass. They fly through the fog, along-side the sky-scrapers. Up and up, storey by storey, up my eyes fly, up above the fog and the clouds. And what do I see? My rainbow? No. I see more grey and below, the high-rise buildings of Manhattan. This is my stop. I walk off the bus, into the foggy street and towards my office building. It is three buildings down the road. I climb the stairs, up to the fourth floor and collapse in my desk chair, exhausted. Maybe one day. If I sit in the 20th floor and look out my office window I will see my rainbow above the fog. I can only hope (recycling to save the planet)
I've Gone To Find Me Not The Me I Am But The Me I Was Before The Heartbreak Before the Fall Before The Pain Before It All I Seek Myself But I Am Scared.... For What Is Waiting Could Be Good Or Could Be Bad But To Find Myself I Must Face The Challenges In My Wake.
Don't know if this is Valentine's themed and I posted this on the thread of how you meet you significant other so here goes. I met my husband back in 2011. We met on a dating app and we lived in two different cities a 45 minute drive. He walked all the way from his house to my house. Took him a couple hours and we have been together ever since.