Where is he?

Did we cross paths and I just missed him?

Never hugged, never kissed him?

Did I ever see him?

As I get older I wander as I wonder

I hope to God we soon meet

Writing about love without a muse

Is like painting

With no paints


With no ice skates

I am getting my life in order

And I know in my heart

That I am ready

Ready for when the time is right

Ready for that confession of Love

I will confess it to you

I will tell you how I feel

It won’t be in my mind this time

No, this time

It will be real

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s