I Wish You Could Hear Me

Sometimes I try to find the right word

it’s like picking stars out of the sky,

I find myself wondering how absurd

it is to constantly be asking why.

~

She told me the truth of how she felt

I wouldn’t listen, she could only resist

There’s a sweet smile makes me melt

Instead of knowing, I would then insist

~

Sometimes late at night I have tears

I cannot figure out just this alone

away from the we without any fears,

need to find the together we had sown.

~

The other day I sent her a letter expressing my love.

I felt all the stars in the sky speaking above.

The other day I sent her a letter expressing my love.

All the words spoke nothing more about love.

~

I can feel her resistance and I cannot hear

words of denial when all I want is her

I stammer and stutter in my mind I fear

I’ve lost everything so evident I am sure.

~

The other day I sent her a letter expressing my love

The other day I sent her a letter expressing my love

The other day I stopped yearning the truth in love.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

Relentless Passion

In hers a quiet world would she live

Each morning routine an evening of peace.

Sunrise walks with only love to give

a family, her children, her silent release.

~

His would be a need for truth in her

struggle to be she asked, a simple life

Not this constant caressing a trigger

shoot holes in her wall, cut like a knife.

~

She would her bootstraps always taut

a world of indifference, a learned trait,

one person is love, another still taught,

feel respect, to watch, might she create.

~

His was soon to be a battle in his mind

hers a simple ask me to live alone

causing him to feel this constant bind

to know quick, dynamics already known.

~

Would she, could she, soon enough relent

His own idealism she wanted to prevent.


©️ Thom Amundsen 7/2021

The Rains

I sat with a desk lamp nearby

listening to the rains,

I knew clearly the reason why

this forest maintains

~

such wonderful animations in the mind,

a forest may the soul in peace unwind.

~

Earlier in the afternoon sunlight

before the setting of dusk,

I watched the clouds in plumes might

settle into a natural melodic busk.

~

I listened to the rains and next the tears

would speak quiet to my mind

wishing only might I ever quell fears

shook her away to rewind

~

Yet I couldn’t help but wish such beauty

might hold promise to love

as would the sound of rains serenely

slicing through the skies above…

~

Such wonderful animations in the mind

a forest may the soul in peace unwind.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021 

Changing Paths – I Still Do

We all know what we believe

in the moment

as we breathe the air around us

would our lives begin to rush

beyond the truth of

what is love,

what lays within our heart,

how does the soul feel sweet reckoning.

~

I have experience in the truth of

changing paths

listened to fear

tried to understand reasoning

when even so, there is one person involved

in the mindset of two,

there is the quandary between me and you.

~

Your fear of changing my path,

if you study the real

then might you possibly feel the beauty

of one’s sacrifice to know life with the other,

to completely give ourselves

to one another.

~

I did love you, and I was willing to go anywhere

your desire would wish enhance our passion.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

When a Picture Would Speak

A space just waits for you

wherever he might be his eyes

could speak to you

remember when we both knew

our lives would matter.

I wanted to have a forever

if only our imagination

would someway live our truths.

If any way could be enough

to speak to love

without all of the consuming concern.

I only want to see you there

a side table held our remember where.


©️ Thom Amundsen 6/2021

Stories we remember

Though time may seem immediate

with passing turn hours, those minute

moments help define the way.

A certain glance, a look, a kiss

would thrill the heart of any man,

surely who might long refrain.

Setting where two people held kiss

an indiscretion speak sweet nostalgic

the world churning without a guess.

She stole his heart on that winter morning,

the angels, a week’s calendar breathing.


©️ Thom Amundsen 6/2021

Wanting the fog to lift

His body had grown tired, waking to a daily chore

wanting only to be admired, not this brooding bore.

~

He would bed himself at night soak the linens in tear

wondering if ever she might understand his only fear.

~

Upon waking in the morning, the sunlight at his gaze

wouldn’t be long a yearning, scrambling in a maze

~

For it is when the fog will hold our deepest analogies

only to fashion a reaction bold, our proven fallacies.

~

The deeper he would dive to find the light of day

less again he’d feel alive, wishing only for yesterday.

~

There was a time I could love a foggy morning, the scenery

could create a magical fantasy, settling winds for you and me.


© Thom Amundsen 6/2021

A Week In The Forest

To leave it all behind,

pitched a tent near the water’s edge,

a place I would often fantasize

to be a stopping ground

the pain and fear of having to survive,

suddenly wrapped in the cool depths.

~

I looked around for no one,

only the animals in the deep wood,

wondering what creature I would be

to steal their space for a few days.

not knowing the sunlight and stars

would be my only way of remembering

I was borrowing their land

for a time.

~

I’m not going to talk much anymore,

I made a vow with myself

alone in the woods I set up a chair,

I could watch the lake for hours,

me and the woods,

and the silence except for nature,

the rustling of the brush,

singing cherubs in the trees

all seemed to be communicating with each other,

a head’s up about the guy,

in the chair.

~

I could easily make choices

in such a serene wood and fallen limb world,

just me and the world

that no one could see without some …

search party,

the ones that would find the reality

of a tired turn in the mind of a

traveler.

~

I was that journeyman if only for a day,

and then the next I returned to the concrete.


© Thom Amundsen 6/2021

How Do We Measure Love

When so many songs on the airwaves speak of love lost

found in the quietest regions of our mind,

shared love

remember love

let only our silence remind us all what love might be.

~

Tonight I would think about her in the softest light

to see the gleam in her eyes

evening stars would be our twilight

sweet love

that passionate tale we told one another.

~

I sometimes will openly crucify myself for letting my heart

steal only the strength of my soul

when pulled together

I haven’t any way to ever relive the magic

once the candle has swallowed its wick.

~

I did love you that part is true and everyone I know

will always see when in a glance, eyes remind us of you.

__________________________________________________________

© Thom Amundsen 6/2021