Romantic History



Poetry is beautiful words and thoughts
More simply put, it’s way of expressing desire,
Hopeful of a reaction provided to the reader,
If it is love, it’s simply there, overwhelming,
Loving words, thoughts, and a book, a novel perhaps,
A nonfiction of passion, believe it or not.




I really do read everything, it’s not what you think, 
Nothing is left out, tapping the like, hitting the link,
Is not really necessarily mandatory, if I follow; I love,
To compare to the sensual author when it’s desired,
It’s a dare in comparison most complimentary,
Is to the experience of following, to compose, 
One of your very own prose. 




It is not a question to whether it is or is not,
That these words cannot be so believably so,
Too erotic to be true, everyone loves the hero,
It’s an affirmation of love confirming the facts,
She has feelings for him, the heroine,
A hero, oh and there could be more
Could it be me?





So I read on and immediately, engrossed, 
Watching, reading, dreaming, and visualizing you, 
Slightly, imagining how the brow furrows,
Just maybe a fraction of a millimeter or two,
And it becomes clear conversing, he wants her; and she wants him,
When the words on the page become too real.




Imagining you’re sitting there in front of me,
In the silence and privacy of our library,
I just love to kneel down in front of you,
To give incredibly sensual loving, prolonged,
In the passion of serenity of a moment,
Words successfully seduced. 





With me just amidst sonnets of your stories,
I know I can do whatever I want in those moments,
In the stillness, it surrounds me, it’s a desire,
Concentrated in the momentum of love,
About how a simple glance, first become a look 
Poetry transformed, in book of romantic history. 


4 thoughts on “Romantic History

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