Found In A Humidor
A Poem By Carol Lynn & Jim
And so I write to you, my love,
unspoken thoughts that plague my brain,
while others wait for evening dreams,
spinning to restful places,
back and forth to heaven,
I dance with fear of losing you...
long past days of worry, far into madness,
pacing the floor of the ocean counting steps between.
Breathing no air, unable to swim,
an anchor less ship, with arduous task
of camouflage, never revealing
my whole self to anyone.
Though I write, I may never send,
shall I burn these words as prayer
to indifferent gods, maybe flame will light
these corridors of endless uncertainty,
then become the eternal torch that
burdens this desperate soul.
But I will carry this beacon on high,
and though you are distance,
my light may guide you back.
It's here I'll wait for you, my love,
hallowed hours spent praying you'll return.
I'm only palsied marrow now,
all that's left gone dead and numb.
Should I try the unfathomable,
divulging this inner truth, hoping for
emancipation, freeing all that lies within,
what may come of that?
Should I kneel and weep, professing
I am nothing without you, while you stand
akimbo, amused by my devotion.
Is this waiting a futile thing,
my arousal a fools game,
lonely among millions to chose from,
yet none measure to your ideal.
Forgive me if this is unseemly,
but my platitudes are a desperate ploy,
a last ditch volley of shock and awe,
a strategy for your surrender,
a treatise for your consideration,
a white flag, if all else fails.