Thursday, July 30, 2009

Come Hold Me Close

When the heart is heavy, the feet are slow.
Come hold me, hold me close,
Tell me that you love me, but mean it though.

Tell me of the joy of us in the here and now.
Come hold me close, make me believe. I don't know how.
Love me for who I am, can you see good in me?
Can you rejoice in the idiosyncrasies?

Body and mind ache from the wanting of your touch,
I lie wide awake thinking... this is all too much.
Close my eyes, dreaming of what I dare not believe,
Knowing how to give, not knowing how to receive.

Can you make love to me with your heart, not with lust?
Melt into my soul and body, teach me to trust?
Whisper softly in my ear, locked in loves embrace,
Cast all my doubts aside, the long ago erase.

Lift me up, be my eagle, wings bestow
Come hold me, hold me close,
Tell me that you love me, but mean it though.

Cecelia

From the Deck

Destiny is pondered as the sun
melts into the colors of life.
A painting spread across rippling
water mirrors joy and strife.

The breeze is warm and soft, yet
A chill runs down my spine.
In the distance a bell tolls;
I wonder if it could be mine.

Who is in control of this time or date?
Is it ME or IT that decides my fate?

Cecelia

How Can I Tell You.....

In the country meadow now by choice,
Unable to resist that purest voice,
The one that sings of a spirit set free,
Who beckons and calls, “come to me”.

How can I give your mind wings to fly into the breeze,
And to feel the sun and rain that brought me to my knees?
To my knees in reverence at the sounds , tastes and smells,
And to the place where hearts rejoice and my spirit dwells.

No city sounds….

In this place there is only the symphony of creation,
Invisible movement brushing in sensuous flirtation.
Time passes quietly; minutes become blissful calming hours,
Just watching a swaying dance between grass and flowers.

No city tastes….

In this place there are no pizzas or burgers and fries,
Only grassy blades and flower stems beneath blue skies.
There is no hunger as contentment fills the soul.
It’s fills as the newness of first love taken for a stroll.

No city smells….

In this place there is the smell of heaven’s sweet perfume,
The scent of fresh cut flowers in your mother’s sitting room.
Wafting through the air, pungent odors tantalize and tease.
It’s Mother Earth’s aroma therapy and guaranteed to please.

I learn more each and every day
Just no way to tell or words to say…
…for…
How can I tell you how it feels to be
Held in the palm of all eternity?

Cecelia 2009