Tag: love

If She Knew

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There in the wind lays definition,

she called them changing winds.

If we could recreate days of passion

perhaps then love properly gleaned.

~

Yet days and hours of time forgotten,

though symbolic reminders lay about

we could in simple terms relive again.

Beauty in circumstance beyond doubt.

~

Oh follow me on this our sensual journey

Oh follow me is this our sensual journey

Oh follow me will be our sensual journey

~

For it is the two of us no longer paired

though in our time so loved had we dared.

Go on and on and on as well we cared,

yes love does happen practiced and paired.

~

Oh follow me in this our constant journey.

 

© Thom Amundsen 10/1

A Wandering Mind

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I wonder sometimes where it is I might go,

if given the opportunity

the freedom to walk away from everything

mechanical in my mind.

You see,

there is a kind of volley of emotion

we live by,

we cannot forget or perhaps

we wish we might be the one,

whom always does

need a reminder,

a reminder to live our lives

in the present

without reflection,

no memory

that might bring us down,

for there is the rub,

that down-trodden personality

the one that seemingly

‘makes us stronger’

in the end when it is far too late.

Too late,

you might beg for an option,

and quite simply there is,

but until you decide,

had enough

that fantasy remains strong

as we age,

stronger forever,

an eternal duel with what works

and what unravels in time

for a crisis to engulf …

my state of mind.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

This Little Man

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He exists only in some plan

a diversion of mine and hers

we are lost in our own hearts

one simple flare of the Man.

~

Seems there can be a truth,

we listen, bear our hearts

without worry of wrath, imparts

a cycle of hurt so very uncouth.

~

If in God’s eyes he train the mind

to live on its own accord, afford

our lives to bury the sword.

Live with love is our humankind.

~

How do we know to forget

or is a stored energy we play

for the autumn is nearer today

fears that stubborn scorn let.

~

Let them lift their bodies cold

find a sweet warmth spoken

a slow and harmonic plan

will lives to share love so bold.

~

Once while observe the moon a crescent

without the whole she could not be present.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Capture My Mood

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Tell me how you’re going to feel

the next time you touch my soul

~

We could be friends forever

organize a press release

sounds poetic, a tad eacer

someone, we keep the peace

~

There was this one afternoon

we spoke of our adventure

shipwrecked we might maroon

our lives, this our forever.

~

Tell me how you’re going to feel

the next time you touch my soul.

Tell me how you’re going to feel

the next time you touch my soul.

~

When the walls began to cave

ought we have better understood

the freedom to love and save

seemed trite and rather screwed.

~

Stand inside the balance

and feel some sacrifice

Stand inside with chance

the love, your favorite vice

~

Tell me how your going to feel

the next time you touch my soul.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Sifting Through Fear

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A candle burns nearby

a reminder of some peace of mind,

tranquil is the flame

out of the corner of his eye.

Speaker beware,

someone might reveal,

their reveal,

that word causes headaches in some circles,

those afraid to look in the

mirror.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Out of the Mind

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Comes this fairy tale

some would call it

a fast and friendly gale

of why whenever might

our soul in peace prevail

change will be our writ.

~

Seems clear we see life

as a partial of our being

always in question is life

though some are arguing

doesn’t matter this strife

we are meant for living.

~

I walked outside of myself

for weeks, needs on a shelf

~

When once had confidence

been thought our middle name

we unravel so much by chance

we can never really, our game

always the question we enhance

lost inside a dream, lose our aim.

~

It wasn’t until yesterday

I could remember again,

what was ahead of my day

not ever today could I gain

semblance, a peaceful way

know in woe ever refrain.

~

I walked outside of myself

for weeks, needs, on a shelf

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

When Last We Imagine

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It isn’t until we know,

that we decide

we won’t go down that path again,

we want to,

want to stay there,

watch the leaves turn

see the beauty laid out before us,

when no one need be nearby

to remind us of just what was there

all this while

all this time

energy spent just wondering why,

hoping to trigger some solution,

lays only in our defense

without any real resolve,

until that day,

that singular moment,

a cathartic wind in a naked sky,

where clouds will part

stars come alive at night,

and our mind,

this simple run of thoughts and dreams

becomes like that of a trance,

lost in the horizon stretching toward the galaxy.

~

For a moment we did step away from our reality,

for a time did we realize we didn’t need to decide,

for just a beat, a heart beat, did we,

imagine.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Serendipity Is Love

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Would that we might dance the night away

When once out of reach, our love found its way

If were to measure all the pain and suffering

Could not surpass, such is beauty our yearning.

~

Perhaps it was alone, a quiet drum beat

A solo venture that would evade defeat

Perhaps it was alone, a quiet drum beat

Could we imagine such wonder our feat.

~

Now today there is memory, if the river walk

Across town we recall, a stroll, Isle of Fern

Red chairs and a gas fire pit, bolted, we’d talk

Memories pain the soul, hearts fear every turn.

~

I lived in this town for almost half my life

She did hers forever, and made it her life.

I would, I cannot recall a softer shade of blue

When one day for now I knew I was losing you.

~

Such a blessing it is to feel we are finally in love

When all the days, our lives, wander the stars above

Such is still that blessing when now the miles are long

When once counted upon, now the eyes cannot belong.

~

Perhaps I am alone, when now it is the drum beat quiets

Perhaps I am alone, when now it is the drum beat quiets

© Thom Amundsen 9/2/2021