PoetryPause Blog – Matthew Ashbrook

Tag: Romance

Light

by on Mar.01, 2018, under Poetry

I like the way I feel
When she’s sitting next to me;
It’s not a feeling of what’s gone
Or a future that might be;
A feeling of some comfort
And contentment through and through;
A feeling of well-being
Though defining’s hard to do.
Kind of like a promise lost
When days turn into night
But just as it is getting dark
She reaches for the light.

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Parting

by on Sep.18, 2017, under Poetry

In the vacuum of departure,
Your presence becomes thought;
Distilled into the memory,
The presence you had brought.

In a town of too few people,
Fewer can be felt;
And loss intensely written
On those to whom it’s dealt.

Upon the vapor trailing,
Behind the parting jet,
The sediment of spirit
And you, I’ll not forget.

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Prologue

by on Jan.14, 2016, under Poetry

Let’s go away
To a faraway place,
Slip through the cracks
And leave not a trace;

To the edge of the earth,
To the edges of time,
Where the primitive woods
Exists in its prime.

And feast from the fruit
Of the leaves and the seeds,
With nothing to want
While the world recedes.

No words to be spoken,
No memory to fog
The story we’ll live
Beyond the prologue

For all that we’ve left,
Not a moment we’ll grieve
Lost in the rapture
Of Adam and Eve.

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Bound Up In Twine

by on Jan.13, 2016, under Poetry

When we first met
I pictured you
Decades down the line:
Bohemian,
In flowing skirt,
Your hair bound up in twine.

Your eyes would sparkle
Just the same;
For time would take no toll;
Summoning
My empty heart
Inside the rabbit hole.

Seated in
An artist’s loft
Surrounded by your work –
The sculptures
With your paintings and
Your Mona Lisa smirk.

But visions of
The dreams I have
Awaken with the dawn;
Between the vision
And the dream,
I wake and you are gone.

Perhaps you put
Your art away,
Your palette and your paint
And settled like
So many do,
Subdued by life’s restraint.

But when we loved
I pictured you
Decades down the line:
Bohemian,
In flowing skirt,
Your hair bound up in twine.

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Off the Grid

by on Jan.30, 2014, under Poetry

Years ago
And out of town
A couple lay
Their bodies down.

Made a home,
And made a kid,
Chose a life
That’s off the grid.

Raised the child
On homegrown food
And stories from
Their childhood.

Solace sought
In starlit skies,
Communing with
The fireflies.

Their child lured
By city lights,
Departed then
For neon nights.

Now bodies wrapped
In wrinkled lace,
The years in furrows
On their face,

Cloaked by time,
Behind its drape,
The only thing
They can’t escape.

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To the Lost

by on Jan.27, 2014, under Poetry

On the sheets of splendor spent,
An afternoon of rapture sent.
Beyond the pale of moonlit skies,
All that is, within her eyes.

The heart with apprehension held,
One kiss of hers, resistance felled.
Every thought by challenge met
I fell into a lover’s debt.

Igniting fires, burned the soul
And all within away she stole.
A vessel left of jumbled rhyme
And memories of together’s time.

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Wedding Dance

by on Jul.05, 2012, under Poetry

The Community Center,
The venue of choice,
A party attended,
A wedding’s rejoice.

Horse lovers gathered,
All cowboys and girls,
To celebrate love
Of a princess and earl.

Fashionably late
For the couple’s grand ball,
I walked in the door
And into the hall.

The horse riding bride
Had cleaned up quite well –
Her satin dress clinging
To her curves and her swells.

Dressed from the farm
In old denim jeans
And worn leather boots,
I was readily seen.

Approached at the door
By the bride for a dance,
I deferred to her question,
And took up the chance.

Pressed to her body,
My best cowboy swirl,
I remembered the thrill
Of the touch of a girl.

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Uncoupled

by on May.29, 2012, under Poetry

Twice I’m divorced
From women adored
Before and thereafter
In couplet or chord.

Few memories exist
Of the bad we withstood,
No trouble remembering
The times that were good.

Unexpected the changes
But time played a part
In metering music,
Disassembling hearts.

Both harbored now
In what I’ve become –
A lyrical dance
On strings that I strum.

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Pure

by on Feb.03, 2012, under Poetry

Somewhere down in Arkansas
Where alligators dwell
Within the swamps of Neverland
There lives a southern belle.

A lady by no other means,
She’s gracious and demure –
Gentle bearing, chaste and shy,
Both virtuous and pure.

Her treasures are ineffable,
And suitors come and go,
But pioneers who stake a claim
Will never be her beau.

No liquor ever passed her lips,
No stolen kiss gives she;
Her heart a locket safely latched
For no one holds the key.

A thousand years she’s lived or more,
A secret is her soul;
All company abandoned she
Alone will know her whole.

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Sheets

by on Nov.03, 2011, under Poetry

Between the sheets secluded
On a bed the golden hair
Cascades across the shoulders
Of a girl who isn’t there.

Gracefully her back is arched
Inviting those who dare
To navigate the circumstance
Of a girl who isn’t there.

Her lines are traced in silhouette,
Her camber caught in stare
Considering the touch and taste
Of a girl who isn’t there.

Abandoned by self-consciousness,
Exposed yet unaware,
Sensually suspicious
Of a girl who isn’t there.

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