DARING HEARTS-
Tell me, how did your heart become so daring, so bold?
How do you spin such ripen fruit on tongue, threading hope
Into wounded and broken hearts just the way you do?
Your voice isn't soft, it doesn't bleed-on or crack.
It's deep in timbre and rich yet ever still,
your lips stay soft and steady…
Tell me, how do you do it?
How does a man speak as deep in kindness as he feels?
It's a bit of a conundrum really, a riddle perhaps.
A witty little puzzle to unravel some staggering surprise,
That later- stabs you in the back.
Maybe not.
I'll tell you though, it was the first time I wasn't scared.
I just sat quite still, wide-eyed and exposed below cherry
wood beams, safely soothed under an open canopy
that was yours and that also seemed to be mine.
We shared the honey fare like they were passing clouds,
each one having its own unique shape and design,
until we both looked up and saw our own thoughts
floating by... deep... in the sky...
I asked you to speak your poem to me in the way
you truly feel it because when you hand me your heart,
I want to keep it even closer to mine.
I want to know the strength and rhythm deep inside your being;
that moves you, that grooves you, that has you rich and wild
on that jazzy beat and tone underneath my skin, thumping
on the brass bell in July, we mix and mingle a beguiling combination;
steady and strong, light and breezy, untamed, unashamed-
Come stroll with me in the park, let’s pause
between - the beats
to help us better hear the heart. One step at a time,
we carved strawberry-striped paths, spinning against time
to find the right direction toward a watered-down world.
Can you feel it moving up, you said?
Well, was it the world that just lifted or was it your soul
that seemed to grow just a little bit higher in nature?
Broken paths find their way straight among tiny purple
maple trees and wild grasses screaming yellow.
It's days like this when peace hangs in air like soft clouds cling to sky.
It's palpable, the silence - it's heard only through the felt sense
and if you're lucky, maybe your eyes will catch a glimpse of it
when you think to look.
Peace is ever-present; it hangs from summer leaves like dewdrops
at dawn hold steady just a little longer before they sail toward earth.
It rises in weed and pasture, fills desires in dandelions, flutters-by
on striped tails kicking up loose dirt, sliding safely into auburn bushes.
Peace is sweet, she dangles from legs, swinging feet above cracked stone
with no fear of being swallowed. Her child inside surprised, when they
found her name in the chuckle patch and you- were fascinated to watch
water drizzle down rocks going nowhere but staying ever present.
Soon, my head laid comfort on your shoulder. We watched
the weeping willows whisper the bird’s song, skyward and peace
came upon us, placed our hands together beneath twined grapevines
swirling affection through bloomed fingertips.
Where do we explore next, I said…?
Let's go find some chubby green frogs sitting on rocks in the stream.
Blow a thousand white wishes across the fields, watch ground hogs
dive under abandoned barns then cross brooks over rocks to dance
and twirl by street lamps in the parking lot. We chased the dream
all the way until light fell in our eyes, then lying still...
under sparklers ablaze, never felt so calm.
How did such a star-spangled night find us...?
How did you call upon moonlight, draped over face and oval eyes...?
How did time move breath, breathing into belly's, holding
onto the others content ever... so... gently...?
It's okay...
Place your soft kisses on my lips and stay there for a little awhile,
even a little longer still...
because the moments before are so fleeting.
Night draws black curtains just before the plunge into darkness
and darkness moves on without us until there's no more but
I'm here still and you’re there - and then I thought,
when did my heart become so daring, so bold?
-J. Circosta, Tiny Poet
Daring Hearts - For Jared, ©7.7.2017
Poems from Passion
Tell me, how did your heart become so daring, so bold?
How do you spin such ripen fruit on tongue, threading hope
Into wounded and broken hearts just the way you do?
Your voice isn't soft, it doesn't bleed-on or crack.
It's deep in timbre and rich yet ever still,
your lips stay soft and steady…
Tell me, how do you do it?
How does a man speak as deep in kindness as he feels?
It's a bit of a conundrum really, a riddle perhaps.
A witty little puzzle to unravel some staggering surprise,
That later- stabs you in the back.
Maybe not.
I'll tell you though, it was the first time I wasn't scared.
I just sat quite still, wide-eyed and exposed below cherry
wood beams, safely soothed under an open canopy
that was yours and that also seemed to be mine.
We shared the honey fare like they were passing clouds,
each one having its own unique shape and design,
until we both looked up and saw our own thoughts
floating by... deep... in the sky...
I asked you to speak your poem to me in the way
you truly feel it because when you hand me your heart,
I want to keep it even closer to mine.
I want to know the strength and rhythm deep inside your being;
that moves you, that grooves you, that has you rich and wild
on that jazzy beat and tone underneath my skin, thumping
on the brass bell in July, we mix and mingle a beguiling combination;
steady and strong, light and breezy, untamed, unashamed-
Come stroll with me in the park, let’s pause
between - the beats
to help us better hear the heart. One step at a time,
we carved strawberry-striped paths, spinning against time
to find the right direction toward a watered-down world.
Can you feel it moving up, you said?
Well, was it the world that just lifted or was it your soul
that seemed to grow just a little bit higher in nature?
Broken paths find their way straight among tiny purple
maple trees and wild grasses screaming yellow.
It's days like this when peace hangs in air like soft clouds cling to sky.
It's palpable, the silence - it's heard only through the felt sense
and if you're lucky, maybe your eyes will catch a glimpse of it
when you think to look.
Peace is ever-present; it hangs from summer leaves like dewdrops
at dawn hold steady just a little longer before they sail toward earth.
It rises in weed and pasture, fills desires in dandelions, flutters-by
on striped tails kicking up loose dirt, sliding safely into auburn bushes.
Peace is sweet, she dangles from legs, swinging feet above cracked stone
with no fear of being swallowed. Her child inside surprised, when they
found her name in the chuckle patch and you- were fascinated to watch
water drizzle down rocks going nowhere but staying ever present.
Soon, my head laid comfort on your shoulder. We watched
the weeping willows whisper the bird’s song, skyward and peace
came upon us, placed our hands together beneath twined grapevines
swirling affection through bloomed fingertips.
Where do we explore next, I said…?
Let's go find some chubby green frogs sitting on rocks in the stream.
Blow a thousand white wishes across the fields, watch ground hogs
dive under abandoned barns then cross brooks over rocks to dance
and twirl by street lamps in the parking lot. We chased the dream
all the way until light fell in our eyes, then lying still...
under sparklers ablaze, never felt so calm.
How did such a star-spangled night find us...?
How did you call upon moonlight, draped over face and oval eyes...?
How did time move breath, breathing into belly's, holding
onto the others content ever... so... gently...?
It's okay...
Place your soft kisses on my lips and stay there for a little awhile,
even a little longer still...
because the moments before are so fleeting.
Night draws black curtains just before the plunge into darkness
and darkness moves on without us until there's no more but
I'm here still and you’re there - and then I thought,
when did my heart become so daring, so bold?
-J. Circosta, Tiny Poet
Daring Hearts - For Jared, ©7.7.2017
Poems from Passion