Tag Archives: Love poem

dVerse Poets Open Link: If I Were Water and You Were Air


If I Were Water and You Were Air

I used to be restless water—
only the froth and currents
of a moving life.

Now I am still water,
sinking down to where
I can be found
by anyone willing to stand quietly
and look.

Is it true that moving water never freezes?
Is it true that still waters run deep?
Is it true that we are wed in steam?

“What if, caught by air,
it never lets me go?” I ask.

“But even water
turned to air
must fall at last,” you say.

“And what if I fall farther from you?”
I say. “Or what if I never again find banks
that open to contain me?”

I used to be swift flowing water.
Now I am a pool that sinks me deeper every year.
So deep, so deep I sink
that on its way to find me,
even air may lose its way.


This is a poem written 5 years ago.

For dVerse Poets.  See other poems from dVerse  HERE.

Long Story


Long Story

Your makeshift fidelity is now a laughable matter.
I have grown bold in my approaching old age
as my own life story now seems more fable than reality.

Every good tale needs its falling action—
its climaxes mainly based on comparison,
and, ironically, you were also its denouement.

But, we are the authors of our own drama,
and, much as I would have chosen otherwise,
you were just the coda of the second act.


Prompt words today are bold, makeshift, fidelity and laugh. Here are the links:

Love Charm

Love Charm

You can put away your broadsword. Swashbuckling’s not in style.
You need not kill a dragon to bring about my smile.
Chivalry is so passé. It’s gone right out of fashion.
It does not raise my temperature nor bring about my passion.

If you wish to start a love affair where we will never part,
if you would win my empathy, my ardor and my heart
and bring a love light to my eyes—that certain telling glisten,
then when I talk, just do one thing.  Really, really listen!!!

Prompt words are temperature, empathy,  broadsword and passion. Here are the links:


Dashed Hopes


Dashing the Hopes of a First-time Suitor

She finds your fawning chivalry to be rather monotonous,
your brain quite adolescent and your physique quite neotonous.
Your compulsion to be healthy to her seems dull and boring,
which prompts my speculation that you likely won’t be scoring.


jdb Photo: Photo is for illustration only.  In no way is the poem intended to represent the two lovely young people it depicts.  The prompts today are speculate, health, chivalry and monotonous. The links are:

Made Over


Made Over

Back when we were fragile and our love was first on trial,
I was seeking to enchant you with trickery and guile.
I feared that final reckoning when one day you’d wake up
before I had the chance to do my hair and my makeup.

My mental alarm clock never seemed to fail.
I’d haul me to the bathroom, looking snarled and pale—
smooth my hair and draw the me you knew upon my face,
until the real me was obscured—vanished without a trace.

How many years did I go on with that sad charade,

trying to restore in me what nature chose to fade?

Now that all I am is finally written on my face

with lines and wrinkles scored so deep that you can easily trace
all of my imperfections, what a wonder that you see
what you describe as beauty in this face that’s only me!


Prompt words today are trial, reckoning, enchant and fragile. Links below.

Phases of the Moon

Phases of the Moon

When you whispered you’d be leaving with the waning gibbous moon,
I let your words escape behind the music of the loon.
I let the truth go bankrupt in the lapping of the wave.
Underneath the full moon, it was easy to be brave.

Beneath the waxing gibbous and the first quarter moon,
I seldom thought about the truth that you’d be leaving soon.
I turned my back to moonlight to ward off future pain.
My joy could not be sabotaged by its wax and wane.

Under the first quarter, I stifled my duress
lest memory of your leaving undermine your fond caress.
And though the new moon brought again reminders you’d be leaving,
I sealed my eyes against the truth to circumvent my grieving.

Under the waning crescent, resolution slipped away.
I pleaded for our meeting to be done in light of day.
I was wan beneath the moonlight as our time as one grew shorter.
How I dreaded what was coming as we viewed the moon’s last quarter.

Tonight I greet the moon again, standing all alone,
listening to your whispers over the telephone.
In spite of my avoidance, your leaving came too soon.
I finally face its truth beneath a waning gibbous moon.


The prompt words were wan, undermine,bankruptcy and seldomly. Here are the links: