The woman I love
Has stars in her eyes
And laughter in her soul
But she's got a sadness
Buried deep inside her
The woman I love
Says she's sick of society
And wants to run away
From the people that judge, dismiss, and betray her
But still cares
What people think of her
The woman I love
Is perfectly imperfect
And full of contradictions
But I wouldn't have her
Any other way

long ago there was a beautiful girl by the sea,
and she told me that if
we can find love,
and that is all we can hope for.

she took my hand, and led me
down to the coves, to a woman,
who rested her hands on the rocks,
where the sea met the cave.

she whispered to me in the summer breeze,
as my linens rocked on the lines,
she led me across the sand
away from home.

when the skies grew dark,
she carried me home
across the grey waves,
she sang with the voice of storm rains.

as the stars came out,
she pulled herself onto the rocks beside me
and we lit lanterns
in the warm summer night.

i remember her as the winter sky
envelops the horizon,
as i gather my bags,
walk away from the caves we called home.

no longer does her voice sing in the coves,
nor am i allowed to become lost
in her teasing eyes,
let her voice lul me across the world.

all i have of her is a distant memory,
an echo of the voice that drives me mad,
the sounds of the water lapping lazily at the sand,
the smell of a warm summer breeze.

a soft touch -sand on my feet,
linens brushing my skin
rough rock under my legs,
and the ocean far below my cove.

I met a stranger,
who loved me like how
She loves the painfulness of poetry.

I met a stranger,
who loved me like how
She loves the bitterness of coffee.

I met a stranger,
who loved me like how
She loves the wildness of the sea.

I met a stranger,
who loved my flaws, my
dark sides, my all.

She was once my unknown zone,
But now, she's my home.

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                               Liberation Begins with our Minds

At lunch today, or during a coffee break
We could switch the break room radio on
To the voices of someone else’s America
Demagogues yelling at us what to think

Or we could open that ancient paperback
Held together with tape and rubber bands
And continue Saint Augustine’s Confessions
Which we began in our younger, happier days

Eternal words, and not some Leader’s noise
Because you and I are not trapped in time