Saturday, July 2, 2011


I Loved Her.

Her words drew me closer. I couldn't wait to rest in her arms. Her voice had the mesmerizing tone of sweet drops of rest... a soft rain accompanied by an easy breeze. I called her my Goddess.

This is not a Harlequin romance novel. It's about meeting someone who had touched my heart. She was beautiful on the outside but her words were my aphrodisiac. She expressed herself with the fearlessness of a wise queen. Her voice, although soft, aroused my soul like the anticipation on the night before Christmas. Heaven must be like this, it surely must be like this.

I surmised that she could have chosen any man as her constant companion, which forced me to ask, why me? Women like that don't have to sleep alone. Why have I fallen prey to the sweet perfume of her voice? Could this be love, or is it my imagination. Is there such a thing as love at first sight, if so, it has it captured me.

I am a very cautious man. My history tells me to protect my heart as if it was the keys to my last dying breath. But I would relinquish those keys if I could forever stay in her bliss.

Oh stars, Oh God, what destiny does thine hold. Should I stop this mental agitation. Tell me why? Do I dream as a man that wishes on a star? Should I let her walk away? If I so dream, I wish to take her with me. I want to spend more time with her. More time to do it over and over again, and again, and again. If I could, I would, stay in her flow, her glow, that mystical world of wonderment.

Hurt is a man that has a dream, that he can't show, I wonder if she knows? I am going to lay down and dream. Again and again, I am going to dream of her! I have to dream because I want to go back to the way it was, because I don't love her anymore.

She was my secret lover, but I, not her's, and she spoiled my dream. I was captured by her stately grace, her rhythmic pace, but I found out she was married to a white man. I know, who knows what evil lurks in the heart of man, but I have to admit that I have a thang against black women that have white men as their mates. And see, she didn't even know me, yet I was enthralled by her outer beauty but most importantly, I was under the spell of her intellectual prowess. However, that love is now gone. Her words have been spoiled by the color of a man's skin. My prejudice has driven a wedge between me and my dream come true. She whispers but the love is gone.