Love Sequence

Through crackled ice,
The constant dripping of melt
On a spring morning;
Why is love so illusive
When the heart won't stay hidden?

Donna

Slow-melting ice;
the lingering chill of spring
dragging on and on;
this endless waiting and wanting
and only empty promises.

Richard

A golden ring
that fits an ungloved hand,
spring morning--
with the iciness melting
in the hearts of new love.

gillena

Evening is falling
on my jasmine bower
not yet bloomed,
although the greenness
beneath buds...how deep.

D.W. Bender

Almost empty,
This cup of green tea--
Steam still rising;
Even in old age the yearning
For passion simmers again.

Donna

Leaves of rue
Fall in the front yard today--
Bitter gray;
A tea room never to serve,
Leaves rot in the front yard.

Sunny

The song of birds,
the wind through falling leaves
myriad sounds--
my beloved's voice, calling,
beckoning, everywhere.

Paul

In the air,
stirring all the earth.
Love beckons--
An elusive longing;
Will you respond?

Helen

Joyful at her
unsolicited smile--
what love
could be greater,
what heart more tender?

Richard

Is that for me,
or the sun in your eyes?
Such a glowing smile--
as we draw closer;
as the sun begins to set.

Paul

Her eyes--
revealing the longing
in her heart;
these pounding waves
stopping at the rocks.

gillena

This river rock
unlocks mystery with a kiss;
Wet with hunger--
it waits in the calm water
for the wind and the morning dew.

Sunny

Your inviting smile,
eyes wide open lighting up,
hearts beat faster--
clouds overhead disperse,
caught in the wind's soft rhythms.

Paul

Flower petals
lifted gently by the wind,
fall silently;
your lips on mine softly
hold time in eternity.

gillena

Terns on the wind,
not the sound of your voice
in swirling flight--
your eternal absence
never really here nor there.

don

Are you real,
or was I dreaming?
the terns' cry
fading in the distance
as is my memory of you.

Richard

Mating voles shriek
In the fencerow's matted grass
So unkempt;
When did love become so distant,
So tamed by life's evenness?

Donna

The scent of your skin
after the day's gardening--
you want hot tea;
I don't want to leave our chair
here in the evening light.

don

Evening is falling
on the jasmine bower
as summer draws nigh,
should I alone enjoy
its fragrant blossom?

D.W. Bender

In the grass,
A forgotten daffodil bulb
Blooming;
This existence showering love
Whether you are here or there.

Donna