Come Casual

For some tomorrow is a distant thunder
Whose storm they cannot see,
For some tomorrow is a candy store
Whose shelves may be empty.

Some in a life will never know
The taste of a lingering kiss,
The brush of fingers across their cheek,
A moment such as this.

                            rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

Was ever a man more enticed
Or held so closely bound,
With no shackles evident
Or prison walls around?
Could ropes be drawn less securely,
And no attempt of a heart to flee?
And could a bird, born to fly
Free of any remand,
Find more desire but to remain
In your open hand?

                rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

 (for one who held his Love’s hand
          as she passed away)

Sleep, my Dear - Sleep in merited peace,
Your burden freed of infirmity’s heavy cloak.
This moment entered opens a door revealing
What just prior was not ours to evoke.

Sleep, my Love - Sleep, and I shall stand
The watch, a hallowed vigil your sacred shrine.
In this consecrated slumber lies
Your comfort and in your comfort I find mine.

                                          rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

A few will understand this, many will think
they do and some will haven’t a clue.

                  Every man in a life
       Should know the love of a woman,
A love with passion sustained beyond the night,
          Each day a melody made sweet
With love more devoted than to its own breath,
      That soars above the surface of self
And breaches the gates of heaven so any man,
       Fool as he might be, may see within.
     A love when lost, as in its time it shall,
                   Never to be again.

                            rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

Today a love was consummated
with promises to honor and love
and possibly obey, I couldn’t say
exactly what the vows consisted of.

The reverend droned with relevant
admonitions for the lovely pair.
Oh, my little girl,
my little girl with the golden hair

Pulled back in a pony-tail,
shining laughter, knowing no shame
from missing front teeth - it seems
memories most vivid appear in a frame.

“Do you take this woman?”
Oh, little girl rest your head on my chest
for a perpetual moment,
for an infinite caress.

“Do you take this man?”
No! My heart jumped with a start
of desperation. “No,” I shouted,
but my lips betrayed me and failed to part.

Today a love was consummated.
Flushed with rapture, the lovely pair,
with wholesome intent, stood wrapped
in a legacy of love, unaware.

rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

Love’s lofty ambition
And the measure of Heaven,
More sought than gold,
Though through golden means,
This wisp, Happiness -
Disguised to be
The siren’s caress.

No beckoning served
That demands a kiss,
Yet sweetly found
When love’s requited,
Elusive Happiness -
Pursued beyond
What we possess.

rlkilgore

    Lift your eyes, modest lady.
    Reticent, sidelong
    glances faintly reflect
    the direction of your
    Concealed intent -
    to lure or reject.

    Raise your skirt, modest lady.
    Reveal your
    lovely milky thigh,
    not enough to show
    your secrets, just enough
    To tease my eye.

    Beneath your chaste mantle,
    what wasted beauty
    lies unseen, unshown?
    Behind your coy demeanor,
    what joy is lost
    we both might have known?

                              rlkilgore