• For My Darling,

    For My Darling,

    I wanted to find you the perfect present;
    Something that would show how much I care,
    How well I know you and how much you mean to me.
    I wanted to get you something that could compare
    To how amazingly special you are to me,
    So that every time you saw it,
    You'd think of our love and tingle to your toes.

    I searched high and low for a lovely card
    That has pretty pictures and put into words
    Exactly how I feel.
    I wanted to give you pretty, sparkly, shiny, special things;
    Things that really mean something.

    I found sparkly things.
    I found many shiny trinkets.
    I found funny cards with cheesy poems that would make you laugh.
    Alas, nothing was good enough.

    There is nothing I can give you that possibly fulfil the desire to express my deepest love for you. I have thus resigned myself to these mediocre gifts and this shiny card but I promise (and I rarely make promises) to keep trying every single day to show you how much I really do love you.

    Your Sweet
    x

  • More Than Words

    There was a time when this came so easily to me, writing about love. It seems ironic to me that finally, after all these years, finding it seems to have resulted in me losing any concept of how to describe it. Suddenly, there are no longer any metaphors that seem to fit, no adjectives that can quite capture the totality of what I'm feeling. Nothing is good enough anymore.

    It used to be that I could sit down and tap out a few stanzas of inane drivel about hearts sighing and angelic beauty or what-not without even thinking about it. Love was always my go-to topic when I couldn't think of anything real to write about. It's easy, right? We all know about love - it's in every tv show, in the lyrics to so many songs, drilled into our minds from as early as our memories can form. Love is kissing and cuddling and holding hands and feeling warm inside... well, kinda but there's more to it. I think that's where I've come unstuck.

    All of a sudden love is something more to me; it's something I can't explain. It's a feeling I can't put into poetry or prose or some pretty picture of light and color. I think that perhaps this is how I know so surely I'm in love - because I don't know how to explain it. At all. I can't even think of a way to describe how I feel when I'm with her or without her or what I want or need or anything.

    I'm afraid I might end up wearing out those special three words and then start running out of sweet things to say to her. After all my words are used up, what will I be able to say? Will I become boring like my empty writing? What does a poet do when he has no more words?

    This old song I was learning when I took singing lessons has just popped into my head in the most apt of timing:

  • Baby, it's cold outside...

    I shall hold your hand throughout this storm,
    As we drift off in each other's arms,
    Cozied up on the sofa in front of the fire,
    Where the crackling embers calm.

    The wind billows on the windows
    And the whiteness whistles past
    Like miniature ghosts in the glow
    Of streetlamps relfecting off the glass.
    This surely is winter approaching,
    The night-time covering the tracks,
    Cunningly knowing all along
    No one would notice once the clocks turned back.

    I'll hold you in my arms tonight
    And any night you wish;
    If you shiver, I'll hold you tighter
    And warm your cheek with my kiss.
    Then if one night the cold
    Should seem too much to handle,
    Please don't think of walking home -
    To do so could become detrimental.
    You may stay with me
    And we'll keep warm beneath the sheets;
    My single bed may be too small for two
    But if there's one thing it's good for, it's heat.

MelancholyRambler

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    • Member Since: 7/6/2008

About Me

  • I like semi-colons and proper spelling and grammar. I like reading mundane blogs with no agenda. I like to go down the pub, even if I'm on my own, and make friends with the bar staff over a scotch on ice. More often than not, there is someone I know there I can hang out with. I don't like people who incessantly go on about their weight or only talk about their supposed problems with drugs or alcohol and my pet peeve: the tragic love lives of the "lonely". Okay so all these things are very sad but it's all I ever seem to hear about. Aren't you people bored of talking about the same stuff all the time?