Spent all day and night Saturday celebrating my recent marriage to my beloved Mrs. IowaScribe. Lots of great friends and family came by to bid congrads and enjoy a burger and some cake. Mother Nature allowed us about five hours of sunshine before the rains arrived and forced us to celebrate indoors. All in all, a GREAT day!
This is a little poem I wrote for Mrs. IowaScribe, back when she was Mrs. IowaScribe-To-Be. It's cheesy and lovey-dovey, the way she likes them.
CLICK HERE for the story of our wedding day.
CLICK HERE for more prose and poetry.
Footsteps
Sometimes I hear footsteps
After we make love
As my fingers softly slide down your leg
Or caress your cheek
Or comb through your hair.
Sometimes I hear footsteps and
I know it is you and
It is me
And it us our past catching up with us.
Sometimes I hear gallops
After we make love
As I gaze into those eyes that somehow
Are the color of warm ice.
I hear gallops as we taste each other’s breath
And bathe in the light of our smiles and
I know it is you and
It is me
And it is our future riding back to rescue us.
Sometimes I hear tiptoes
After we make love
As you whisper words like “everything”
And I sigh phrases which feature sounds of “always”
And “forever.”
Sometimes I hear tiptoes and
I know it is you and
It is me and
It is now, a living dream
And we walk softly so not to wake us.
This is a little poem I wrote for Mrs. IowaScribe, back when she was Mrs. IowaScribe-To-Be. It's cheesy and lovey-dovey, the way she likes them.
CLICK HERE for the story of our wedding day.
CLICK HERE for more prose and poetry.
Footsteps
Sometimes I hear footsteps
After we make love
As my fingers softly slide down your leg
Or caress your cheek
Or comb through your hair.
Sometimes I hear footsteps and
I know it is you and
It is me
And it us our past catching up with us.
Sometimes I hear gallops
After we make love
As I gaze into those eyes that somehow
Are the color of warm ice.
I hear gallops as we taste each other’s breath
And bathe in the light of our smiles and
I know it is you and
It is me
And it is our future riding back to rescue us.
Sometimes I hear tiptoes
After we make love
As you whisper words like “everything”
And I sigh phrases which feature sounds of “always”
And “forever.”
Sometimes I hear tiptoes and
I know it is you and
It is me and
It is now, a living dream
And we walk softly so not to wake us.
RSS Feed
