With Thoughts of You

Your name
new and exotic
creeps up
the spiral staircase
leading to my
loft of longing.

Shrouds of mystery,
a life, a world
of unknowns
looms cautiously
as fluffy clouds
in the besotted blue spring sky.
A gift
in magnificent,
and sultry wrapping;
contents yet to be defined,
feeds the flames
of this prairie fire.
I linger longer
in streams of thought
that meander curiously
through fields of fantasy
lying in the hollow vastness
of my hungry heart.
Desires armed
with unfaltering focus
fix their cross hairs
on your image
of black and white,
imbued with hues of lust.
Every ticket is a winner
until numbers are called,
every relationship
pregnant with promise,
forges the key
to the door of love forever.
I boil the water,
make my tea,
sit a while and ponder
quixotic ruminations,
pronouncing possibilities
with thoughts of you.
Copyright © Henri Ferguson 2005
All rights reserved.

Author notes

Woke up this morning with a spring state of mind; spring a time of new beginnings, new possibilities of growth and the potential for love. It is said that we need not look for love for love finds us. The challenge then (it would appear) is for us to learn to discern between those fleeting and intoxicating feelings of infatuation and listening to that place somewhere between the heart and the head and tuning into that intuitive sense that becomes our compass. Peeling away the layers of insular protectiveness, baring our soul and becoming receptive to what the universe has to offer. Allowing love to find us.
Written April 1st, 2005
By |2012-03-27T11:27:00-06:00March 27th, 2012|0 Comments

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