Lovers don’t love
for the pleaure,
they love
because
nothing else can
fulfil the needs
within them.
Same
for woman
and man.
Lovers don’t love
for the pleaure,
they love
because
nothing else can
fulfil the needs
within them.
Same
for woman
and man.
Where he goes she follows still.
Quo vadis? This her way,
Though guidance lacks illumination,
Direction gone astray.
Dimly lit the forest path,
Crescent slits dark blue,
Myriad beacons lost in night,
Light years unfiltered through.
Stars above cannot conceive
Of empty hollow space.
Should she now lead where he may go?
Alternate human race.
Or side by side,
In step, in tune,
Guided by
Night’s brightest moon
And daylight’s orb;
Disparate norm.
Day and night,
In perfect form.
Now Suz, you have nailed it, as a female with a mind,
Experience in womanhood. Men must seek and so they’ll find
That much of what a woman wants is tethered to the stars.
I know they say that we hail from Venus while men exist on Mars.
A cosmic soul comparison to highlight different spheres,
A lifetime spent in wondering, overcoming fears.
But planets should collide in space in some ethereal way
And, on earth, we bump together too but all men have to say, is
‘Darling, what’s your heart’s desire? Tell me, I will try.
I’ll promise love eternally and search until I die,
To overcome your subtleties, learn to read your clues,
Endeavour to be true all days, pay what is your due.
I’ll harness stars and catch the moon, remove obstacles in our path,
I’ll humour you when you are blue, I’ll try to make you laugh.
I’ll even buy you personals when Christmas comes along,
I’ll sing to you with lover’s voice and soothe you with my song.
Is that enough to win your heart? What more, please, pray me tell,
Guessing at your nuances, men don’t do that very well.’
Now that’s a start, if men are willing to read the woman’s book,
They’ll tell you if you really ask. And listen, that’s the hook.
‘You’ve said it all, that’s all I ask. Willingness to show,
Hidden voice within my head, you’re trying to understand and know.
Woo me with a sense of worth, seasons full of longing,
Ensure your heart is open wide, a place I may belong in.
Answer me in sentences, not cryptic yes or no’s.
We use our words expressively, while your dearth quite often shows
That what we’re trying to say to you goes right over your head.
Then we lose the plot at you and you wonder what you said.
The point you see is you don’t say much to express all that is real
You seem to think we should absorb, osmosis-like, what you feel.
To you, a word or two should do, a nod or gesture feint
To speak your love, exact desires. It doesn’t work! Not quaint!
Exactitude in what you feel, expressed in tender giving,
From heart and soul and mind as well; Woman’s way for living.
Just a thought or two for you. Hope it’s not too much.
That it doesn’t blow your mind wide open at all that mush and such
Anti-male, Jessie-like, entrapments for the ‘soft’.
Not soft at all but strength it shows; we’ll hold you so aloft
If all that you convey to us is done with purest love
And sensual thrown in, for good measure. That might just be enough!’
No more I’ll say. I’m telling you, women speak in heaps,
But not all we say is heeded, a pity, it would keep
Unnecessary confusion from cluttering up our way.
Openness and honesty might help to win the day.
Remember though that truthfulness, although a wondrous gift,
Should not be used when she asks, ‘Does my bum look big in this?’
A gentle smile, no smirks, not wise, if you want to keep your teeth.
See, it’s all quite easy. Next question, if you please!
Ah’m no’ hard.
Ah’m no’ even that tough.
Bit ye see, Ah come fae Glesca,
So that seems tae be enough,
To send some people scurrying
Right off their mark,
Terrified I’ll chib them,
Attack them in the dark.
Bit ye see, it’s jist an accent,
‘Cos ah come fae this place
Jist lik you’ve got wan,
Mibbe nicer. Bit still an accent.
An’ a face.
Ah could dae Irish fur ye,
That sounds awright.
Ah’ve always liked that yin,
‘Cos it disnae gie ye a fright.
Or mibbe the Highlands cos
They sing a wee song,
Makes ye want tae dance
As if ye belang.
Or ‘ow about ze French?
I ‘ope eet’s not too bad
Been a leetle while seence I practeesed
So eet might sound a trifle mad.
But ah’m no’ fae they places
Ah’m fae Glesca, awright?
An’ ma voice is jist a voice
Wi’ an accent that’s no’ too polite.
A helluva wie tae judge people though,
Lookin’ at faces an’
Listenin’ as if ye could know
Whit they’re aboot,
Like ye know them so well,
Rubbish that is,
A terrible wie tae foretell
A person’s character, their
Values, their worth.
Makin’ judgements ‘cos folk are different.
Who dis that kinda stuff?
Ah’m no’ hard, ah’m tellin’ ye,
Jist a Glesca lassie that’s aw.
Inherited my accent
Fae ma da an’ ma maw.
Bit they always tellt me,
No matter yer station,
‘mind yer as good
As the rest ae the nation.
A message ah learnt
When ah wis jist wee
No’ tae judge others
‘cos ae where they’re fae.
Decided to dance a little deeper in life, and wow can spirit dance!
Adventures to beguile you, worlds to enchant you.
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