Rain

The rain is peaceful on my roof,
And now I need no other proof,
Its soothing, reassuring sounds,
Engulf my senses, and surround
Me in its peaceful lullaby,
I feel its love when sleep is nigh,
And in my arms, I hear you sigh,
And in my joy, I breathe a sigh.

© 2009 Petit Poet

Magic Journey

I've heard the colors of the rainbow, and I've touched the evening sun,
I have tasted Autumn days, and yet my life has just begun,
I have journeyed on the wings of a distant shooting star,
And the magic of my journey led precisely where you are.

© 2008 Petit Poet

Field of Lilacs

Rolling in a field of lilacs overwhelms, removes all cares,
Petals clinging to your tangled iridescent strands of hair,
Fill my mind with your euphoric, from all sorrows insulate,
Surround, infuse me with your fragrance; lilac scent intoxicate.

© 2008 Petit Poet

Dreams (Don Quixote)

"When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical may be madness. To surrender dreams, this may be madness. To seek treasures where there is only trash...Too much sanity may be madness, and maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be."
Don Quixote de la Mancha, Miguel De Cervantes,
Spanish adventurer, author & poet (1547 - 1616)


We are accused of being mad, of living in a dream,
But where is madness we may ask, and where lies sanity?
Perhaps it’s mad to think as real, the lunacy of life,
When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where saneness hides?

Perhaps it’s mad to be too “real”, surrendering our dreams,
Perhaps in letting go of "life", our sanity’s regained,
For isn’t sanity the dream of life as it should be?
And do not hope and joy reside in dreams of loving deep?

© 2008 Petit Poet

Sightless Love

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;
what is essential is invisible to the eye."
-- Antoine de Saint Exupery (The Little Prince)

Your face is yet invisible, perhaps will always be,
And yet, your kind attention is there for me to see,

Your words are filled with laughter, with a happiness that’s rare,
And the measure of your passion really shows how much you care,

“The Little Prince” so rightly said that vision must be felt,
As toward essential joys of hope and love we are impelled,

For when love “feels right” and to us its deep felt joys impart,
Our sightless eyes can only thrill at love within the heart.

© 2008 Petit Poet

Turbulent Moon

Did you see me in the rising of the moon?
Did you feel my distant yearnings beckon you?
Was your peace elusive and your heart untuned?
Did you find yourself unable to commune?

Feel the aching in my soul reach out to you,
Sate this hunger that I feel, bereft of you,
With welcome arms this turbulence subdue,
And with your loving peace my soul imbue.

© 2008 Petit Poet

Your Petals

Your silky, dew-soft petals,
Glistening with desire,
Make me smile and want to taste,
And set your soul on fire,

I love to feel your hunger,
As you press yourself to me,
I love to feel your passion,
Uninhibited and free,

I love to feel my tongue glide
In your furrow, wet with love,
I love your scent, I love your taste,
And never get enough,

And when I feel your spasms, deep
As they sweep over you,
The pleasure that I feel within,
With joy my soul imbues.

© 041305 Petit Poet

Lotus Flower

(The lotus flower is universally accepted as a symbol of estranged love and the associated empty yearning it entails.)


She always wore his lotus flower dipped in gold around her neck,
With this token, she felt cherished, she felt safe, she felt bedecked,

He had given her this flower -- symbol of his love etern,
Never knowing of the omen, unaware her heart would yearn,

But in time the ancient power could no longer be denied,
And in time the love he promised, could no longer give his bride,

When she should have felt elation as she climbed the stairs of life,
Like the priest within the temple, with his palm he tipped her back,

She was lost, without direction, with no compass, with no muse,
With no love to keep her balanced, was bewildered and confused,

How to heal the empty yearning that she felt, his love had gone,
Where could she obtain catharsis for the pain, she felt withdrawn.

Through the veil of inconsistencies that shadow her in life,
He is there and she can feel him, she can see him still, his wife,

Being brave was just a decoy, just a sham to show outside,
Just an act that she invented as she salvaged wounded pride,

Once again before the mountain, she is standing, feeling small,
Once again he asks acceptance, she again feels numbing pall,

Can she once again float backward to a time of joyful bliss,
Can she once again reach for him, to accept his hand, his kiss?

No, his love's a lotus flower, filled with half truths, filled with lies,
Like the beauty of the lotus, hiding pain behind disguise,

At last where is the lotus flower, like their love, it now has gone,
Like that dreaded fateful finger, having writ, it has moved on.

© 2008 Petit Poet

New Love

Momentarily transported to a time when love was new,
Fragile petals, fragrant, heady, joyful dreams my soul imbue,
Zephyr promise unknown pleasures, filled with expectations true,
Frisky as a colt in clover, drunk with scent of morning dew.

© 2008 Petit Poet

My Heart

My heart is like a gentle breeze,
That whispers in your ear,
And kisses you so tenderly,
Upon your cheek so dear,

My heart is like a violin,
Caressing you with sound,
Embracing you in melody,
With feelings deep, profound,

My heart is like a rose bouquet,
Its aroma fills your soul,
We fall besotted in its spell,
A delirium of love.

© 2008 Petit Poet