Sweets America
08-26-2007, 03:12 PM
That morning, as he woke up, the old man smiled.
It could be rainy outside, and the light could be dull,
That was of no importance
For inside of his heart
Three flames were burning.
The first one was filling him with sensuous warmth
― Already ―
He knew he would leave his bed
To find Her,
To be fed with Her love for him,
To share his mind and body
With his Sophie,
To sip at Her words
As they would melt into his cherished espresso.
That morning, the first cigarette would nourish his lungs with love.
Later in the day, he would share lunch
And taste tenderness and affection with his beloved daughter.
He pronounced her name, in his mind,
― Already ―
And he felt the blood run faster in his veins.
Some part of his Zoe would always run there,
A part of her that would never turn away from him
A part that could whisper the inexpressible.
Finally, he would take Youth is his arms
And as the baby girl would grab his cheeks
And speak to him with her tiny voice
Tears would come to his eyes as
Something, in the depths of his soul
Would ache from the consuming elation that it brings
To bear life and innocence in one’s hands.
He knew it
―Already―
He knew the tears that would not come out,
He knew the pain, the happiness, and the anguish
That welled up when he thought
That he could someday lose all those feelings.
Time goes fast, hours fly, years pass by
The old man.
As night would come
And the sky would get painted in a dark Sapphire shade,
The old man would lie
In his loveseat
And heave a sigh.
Before he goes to sleep,
He would take some time to clean up his heart...
Removing the old sorrows, and replacing them with the new fresh emotions.
He would rewind the tape of his day and listen again
To the way the three of them would have pronounced his name,
― Jerry, Jerry, Jerry... ―
Each sounding like a different music
But all flooding his soul with such an unbearable love.
As he would fall asleep
The old man would enter peaceful dreams
And there only, he would allow himself to shed
All the cleansing tears
Which would take away the pain as they would
Run down his cheeks,
To reach the smile
Wearing the imprint
Of silent delectation.
It could be rainy outside, and the light could be dull,
That was of no importance
For inside of his heart
Three flames were burning.
The first one was filling him with sensuous warmth
― Already ―
He knew he would leave his bed
To find Her,
To be fed with Her love for him,
To share his mind and body
With his Sophie,
To sip at Her words
As they would melt into his cherished espresso.
That morning, the first cigarette would nourish his lungs with love.
Later in the day, he would share lunch
And taste tenderness and affection with his beloved daughter.
He pronounced her name, in his mind,
― Already ―
And he felt the blood run faster in his veins.
Some part of his Zoe would always run there,
A part of her that would never turn away from him
A part that could whisper the inexpressible.
Finally, he would take Youth is his arms
And as the baby girl would grab his cheeks
And speak to him with her tiny voice
Tears would come to his eyes as
Something, in the depths of his soul
Would ache from the consuming elation that it brings
To bear life and innocence in one’s hands.
He knew it
―Already―
He knew the tears that would not come out,
He knew the pain, the happiness, and the anguish
That welled up when he thought
That he could someday lose all those feelings.
Time goes fast, hours fly, years pass by
The old man.
As night would come
And the sky would get painted in a dark Sapphire shade,
The old man would lie
In his loveseat
And heave a sigh.
Before he goes to sleep,
He would take some time to clean up his heart...
Removing the old sorrows, and replacing them with the new fresh emotions.
He would rewind the tape of his day and listen again
To the way the three of them would have pronounced his name,
― Jerry, Jerry, Jerry... ―
Each sounding like a different music
But all flooding his soul with such an unbearable love.
As he would fall asleep
The old man would enter peaceful dreams
And there only, he would allow himself to shed
All the cleansing tears
Which would take away the pain as they would
Run down his cheeks,
To reach the smile
Wearing the imprint
Of silent delectation.