A painter I shall become

Beyond I Do

Let “I do” carry an eternal vow—
to have and to hold,
lasting beyond the confines
of death.

Let the love we cultivate
reach beyond realms.

And when the mortal realm
holds space for us no longer,
let our journey together
continue in the realm beyond.

A painter I shall become

A painter I shall become,
Weave brush,
To capture the way
My heart flutters at your sight.
I shall use paint,
In its myriad of colours,
To portray the room’s glow
Whenever you smile,
As if it endorses your presence.

Shall I make the canvas
Bear the complexities of emotions,
Tangled within,
At the thought that you are mine,
At the notion
That I have been allowed
The grace to have and to hold,
Till we both run old?

three little words

I love you—

A phrase formed,
letters strung together,
possessing
a profound ability,
a power
to shift,
to alter,
and affect
mortal moods.

The receiver,
cast into jubilation;

the one who utters
the phrase
holds anticipation
of hearing
its return in kind.

In your presence and without

Grant me your ear, my love,
for my heart has a request
it must convey.

When you hold me,
let safety seep out
through every embrace.
Allow your love
to accelerate my heart’s pace.

Let the affection you hold
be the guard
that repels all doubt,
in your presence and without.

For love must reside
in all actions you command.
Let them become signals
that your heart holds space for me,
for my actions shall convey
that my heart holds space for you.

between rain and thought

I see raindrops falling,

Droplets cascading down,

Saturating the windowpanes,

Which fog with every escaped breath.

Wonder fills my mind

As it races with thoughts.

The corrugated iron roof

Becomes a percussion instrument

As the rain falls,

Providing an accompanying symphony.

And thoughts of you

Transform my mind

Into vast grasslands,

Where they frolic freely.

Further still

May my lips
never part to say goodbye.

This heart would weep
forty days and forty nights
as your steps
inch further and further.

That sorrow
would plague my dreams,
for my mind
would replay your steps
as you walk further,
and further,
and further still,
till your visage
is visible no longer.

a pledge

A Memory Time Cannot Touch