Words Are Not Enough

how does one thank someone 
who puts our needs above his own,
who blankets us in support
picking up the slack while we grow?

how does one thank someone
who cradled my babies in his arms,
and always in his heart
as they face the risk of harm?

how does one thank someone
who leads with love and logic, too,
checking ego at the door 
while we evolve, always anew?

how does one thank the husband
who inspires us all everyday,
the father of my children, 
the epitome of love in every way?

a few spoken words could never be enough
to express what my heart has to say,
so I’ll keep showing my love and gratitude,
for this amazing man, every day

-image via Pixabay

Mine

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Ahh, look at her –
there’s something inevitable about her that draws me in,
my eyes can’t get enough,
I’m addicted

she has this quiet, humble confidence and these kind, welcoming eyes,
a classic, artful line about her

the graceful curve of her shoulder muscles eluding to her tranquil strength,
her delicate neck and the unpretentious way she holds herself, mesmerizing,
a tactile symmetry that whispers my name

the way the silky, black fabric rests on the soft edges of her collarbone,
making me wish I could follow them beneath

her exposed upper back begging for soft kisses,
for finger trails that cause the rest to arch in anticipation,
making me want to see just that

and there she sits,
tucking in a few stray strands of that beautiful, auburn hair,
twisted so effortlessly off her shoulders,
completely unaware of the attention,
her beauty so natural,
an easy, feminine elegance,
all woman,
mine

I’m gonna walk over there,
gonna wrap my arms around her and lead her to dance floor,
kiss the muscled line running from behind her ear and down her neck,
the one that leads to that inviting dip in her clavicle

I’m gonna listen to her gasp against my cheek,
feel her heartbeat quicken beneath my palms

I’m gonna hold her so close,
she won’t ever forget how I feel about her,
she won’t ever remember a time she wasn’t loved

-image credit Öykü, found on Tumblr

Never End


she sat on the couch, 
the smell of freshly popped popcorn laced with a faint whisper of strawberry shampoo filling the air around her, 
as her youngest daughter folded herself into her,
arms wrapping years around her small frame,
holding them in

she glanced from one side to the other,
catching her oldest daughter in a throw-your-head-back giggle,
and her husband with his face all smile and eyes bright with joy

and just like that,
she felt them all blow through her chest, 
simultaneously filling her to all her edges,
and turning her to dust 

God, she was happy,
happier than she’d ever been

and she never wanted it to end

-stock image via Pinterest

Pickle Jar

she snuggled into him,
resting her head in the nook of his shoulder,
finding it was made just for her

here, her soul was at rest,
a rest she hadn’t ever known before,
and closing her eyes,
she savored

the way his palm delicately glided over her curls,
fingers grasping in silky handfuls and lifting,
each individual strand falling to a goose-fleshed tickle against her back 

the whispered words, warm against her cheek, 
swelling her heart and causing her lip to quiver,
the gentleness of his soft lips against her forehead,
and arms which drew her so close, 
she could no longer tell where he ended 
and she began

she couldn’t imagine ever forgetting –
she wanted to preserve each breath  as she breathed it,
every feeling as it overtook her

scooping each fluttering second into an old pickle jar,
she filled it to the rim,
illuminating like a warm summer night’s fireflies

alive,
and forever lighting 
the way home 

-image found via keywordsuggests.com

Bleed

it’s said we bleed the things 
we love the most

all I can think about
is the way you sneak behind me
in the kitchen and squeeze me into you, 
nuzzling your face into my neck,
whispering sweet and naughty
phrases as your whiskers tickle,
giving me goosebumps 

the way you tuck me in at night,
pulling the covers up just how I like them,
smoothing the white duvet, 
tucking it over my exposed shoulder
so I don’t get cold, 
then crawling in to mold your body 
around mine

the way you watch me when I don’t know 
you’re watching, 
and I look up, meeting your gaze unexpectedly,
only to see that expression on your face
that still gives me butterflies,
the look in your eyes saying much more 
than words ever could

the way we laugh till our bellies hurt, 
and cry free tears,
our emotions free to be exactly 
what they are

the way you exude appreciation 
and gratitude

the way you make me feel 
safe and wanted,
protected and adored

the way you make me feel 
like I am exactly where 
I belong 

if we bleed the things we love most,
then surely I bleed 
you 

-image via Pixabay

The Forest


I’m lost in a forest of the tallest trees, inundated with wickedly bent, sinister trunks, and thicket so dense my feet can barely move, the air damp and heavy, sitting like rocks in my lungs.

Swiping and slashing, I claw at the overgrowth’s sharpness, aching to lift my legs and move, grasping for vines that might save me. Yet, I don’t want to be saved, exactly. I crave absolution.

On tattered, tired, and bended knees, I offer you a ridged branch, begging for penance, desperate for your command, yearning for you to envelope me in the shelter of your palm.

Help me be my vine.

And then I wonder, how heavy is that staff? Is the weight just too much?

You answer, you deliver. You take and give, give and take. With each conviction, a little of you infiltrates me, suffocating the darkness, penetrating every fiber of muscle, saturating each porous bone, filling and filling until you seep up through every follicle and pore, spilling out and bending to my every contour, forming a shield upon my flesh that no thorn can puncture.

Now, I can weave my vine, with threads of you in the center, the strength in its core.

Together we can conquer; we can see the forest though the trees.

-image via Pixabay

Forever

You allowed me to silence the noise,
To listen to my voice,
A conscious choice,
To feel the pain to find the joys

You are the sparkle in my spirit,
The waterfall to my basin,
The steady voice; I always hear it,
The capital to my nation

With you, I can finally exhale,
Adding tools, while sinking nails,
Trading anchors for billowing sails,
Building foundation, while blazing trails

You allow me to dig deep, finding me –
To stop fighting against rules,
Because we write our own, as it should be
Freely fashioning our own tools

-image found on Tumblr