Craving a slow down,
of old lazy love,
with no strings attached,
internet interruption, phone handling and ringing.
To awake after a forehead kiss,
to a shower humming along the
during breakfast, hearing the completion of my song,
by birds, happily singing,
to my smile.
You’ll find me,
a limited edition,
among the trends,
only, pretending in part,
taking it all in, but playing keep away with my heart.
A balancing act,
just breezefully slipping, in the wind.
Timeless, but unforgetful toward old promises,
from long-time friends.
too smell the roses and too lay back, looking, up in the sky.
Breathing-in the sounds of life and laughter, as they finally come back by,
to teach happiness.
A failed speech, too deaf ears,
as previous generation’s ghost. Unbeknownst, to the newer
emotionally, I cry, from they’re weakened host.
knowing those who felt it before, will certainly enjoy it’s visit,
But saddened by youthful proof,
that technology equals,
Dragonflies, flowers and butterflies would get they’re attention craved,
as the vivid colors of yesteryear would come back,
more colorful if we, behaved.
Carnival’s, corndogs and roller coaster screams,
loyalty would keep track, of
as honesty’s picnic,
at the park pushing self-worth on a swing.
While appreciation walked alongside self respect,
barefoot, on the beach.
Slowing down just a lil too change, the humdrum scenes,
that plagued each street.
Calling for the Family reunions, cookouts
games of chance,
softball, volley, spades and dominoes in competitive natured views, slick talk ending in expressions of, I still love you’s.
The music returns too romance, as a slow dance finds my hand’s at peace,
so sweet is a kiss, from arms, behind you hugs,
making the knee’s go weak.
Serene ambiance of stars shining brightly,
as the sounds of crickets chirp,
in the distance.
A late night cuddle on a porch swing,
until the sandman beckons my dream, and blows in my eyes politely.
So different is the presence my mind gives,
to the realm in which I live,
but excitingly it’s where you’ll find me, enjoying yesteryear.
Unable too let go of its hold the old romance,
the present echoes,
As new love stinks,
empty words of uncommitted ties, that exist.
It hurts me to see love die that way, so you will always,
find my love,
By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright © 2017