The heart, swayed by love’s intuitive breadth. The soul, moved by the vibrancy of autumn’s hue; heart and soul, left profoundly breathless by love’s divine allure. Every breath taken, every exhale released, its essence held within the pages of life’s ornate beauty. Though tears fall, love’s reign comes leaving its sublime due, soothing misty blues. The end of every season inevitable change, revealing its poetic rhyme has a distinct reason. Fertilized hope allows faith’s blossoming roots to go deep, love naturally growing, glowing resolute and perpetual. Its crimson beauty in any other light, its nuances still as captivating. Through the lens of love’s heartfelt perspective, the world’s beauty though organically captured. Loses its quintessential appeal, if love’s natural tapestry, yet not the fabric of its mosaic texture!
Sweet Love, You are my soul’s joyous delight, indulgence of my innermost. Take me sweetly by the heart, to the sweet bye and bye. But, before my soul traverses the breadth therein, the gravity that takes my deepest breath. Intimate love, into me see, does your sweetness bear witness within my soul? Within the valley of shadows, walk with me, talk with me, hide my fears within the clefts of the hollow. Every day, my soul makes room, hear my heart’s love song bellow. My every heartstring strummed like to that of a breathless cello, hello. Roses are red, violets true, love deepens the crimson hue, within the depth of a heart’s more pleasant flower. Oh love, every hour, cue the violin, cue the orchestral tears moved by love’s sweet cascading sway. Its touching melody, textured essence of sweetened tapestry. Sweet dreams are made of these, how love rests so tenderly upon my swaddled soul. Hold my gaze, this not just a heartfelt faze; set my soul ablaze, emboldened of you be my most earnest praise. Words spoken softly, of love be the purest honey, dripping of love’s sweetest sublime, time after time. Chime in at any time, nurse my heart’s rhythmic rhyme, be love’s endless little twinkle, twinkling like an endearing star. Candid love, be near never far, nudge my soul profoundly with gentleness conveyed. Saving forever, love swayed endeavor, heart in heart forevermore. Love, oh love, irrevocably of thus I am; an endlessly seeping dam, pierced sweetly ever so…
Of the heart’s lens, soul’s resonance realized, perspective captured within the peripheral of one’s cognizance. What doesn’t escape the heart’s perception, could never evade the landscape of the soul’s breathless viewpoint, love’s sublime beauty beckoning your innermost. The sun, the moon, the stars, the heavens not of a galactic afar; reached tangible, within the contemplation of our optic succession. Flowers bloom, but yet leave room so one’s heart, can bask in the enlightened hue of life’s wondrous treasures. The poetic moments that won’t escape, but become a heart’s-scape. What profoundly texturizes the soul, as its delight peers through the lens of a captivated heart. Heartfelt moments that define, love’s pastel petals so fine, through the lens of an artistic divine. Life’s intuitive collage, silencing chaos’ counterintuitive barrage. Leaving only love’s gaze, caught within the perceptive breadth of your soul’s breathtaking exhale!
*** This post, a collage of some of the photos my heart has captured this year with my phone, while traversing the downtown streets of my vibrant city, along with a poetic prose to give them a voice! Hope you enjoyed them!
Your love moves, my soul trying to catch its breadth, but once again my heart’s perspective completely shifted. Your love so profoundly moving; forevermore it will surely take my breath, away on wings of love. My soul, trying to grasp the moment this love became so moving, how my heart became fluttering butterflies, caught within its rapture? Your love is like the wind, blows the mind, my heart swept like if a feather speechless within its embrace. Your love moves me, making me chase after my own heart, only to once again lose every breath, in love’s deepest spaces, finding my heart in such deep places. Every heartstring, wrapped up, tied up, tangled up within the crimson corals of love’s illustrious beauty. Drowning breathless within its ocean, its tender emotion. Perception of a heart too introverted, but even in love’s subtle motion, my quiet soul so persuasively moved, by its gentle sway. Of its pondered thoughts wander, search of the heart to find where the love ends, and the rhythm of my own heartbeat begins. Every day, my soul takes flight, tethered to love’s wing and a prayer, falling yet breathlessly. Every breath held tight; its muse clung to my soul so dearly. A love deeply moving, so breathtakingly sublime!
Dearest Joy, DJ, run the riddim; sway my heart with the breadth of love’s sweet, sweet melody. DJ, the depth of your beat is so moving; simply groovy. Hey, DJ, the echo of your rhythm is extraordinary, so intoxicating. Stir it Up, my soul never left shaken, just my heart stirred. Oh DJ, the essence of your intimacy has a beautiful sound; its rhyme has no bounds. My soul could never deny, your sway my heart does prove, your rhythmic groove has deepened my muse, pleasure beyond a cultural vibe. DJ, you have the ticket to my heart, love’s progressive notion, swaying my heart and soul within its simplistic motion. Oh my soul, stop grooving and fall in line, my heart must always take the lead. What’s a groovy moment, if you can’t dig it; Get down on it, and Rock Away. Oh DJ, me love you long time, and my heart is Jammin; bubbling and rising up the top of one hundred. Run di track, play my heart some Jamdown anthem, bless up with ah little Caribbean style and flavor. DJ, don’t let my soul catch its breath, until my heart’s groovily free, able to frolic breathlessly. Let everybody get in ah di groove, give tribute to the land of Wood and water; of its rich natural beauty, blessed with God’s awesome splendor. DJ, coursing through my being, the rhythmic flow of its cultural vibes. Its joyous riddim cultivated in Jamaica’s breathtaking yonder, part of love’s groovy little island wonder!
After more than 300 hundred years of British colonial rule, Jamaica gained independence on August 6, 1962. The road to independence was long and hard, but with prominent and instrumental figures such as, Sir Alexander Bustamante, and Norman Manley, Jamaica gained its freedom for self-governance. In Jamaica, this date is celebrated as Independence Day, its national holiday!
*** Though, I’ve been living in Canada since the 70’s, I would be remiss not recognizing Jamaica’s independence, the land of my birth as something to be celebrated! ***
Deep within my soul, a crimson love story seeps, penned its composition keeps. Etched upon the tablet of my heart, the end still being inked, of a mind and soul living synced. Love is the ink, my heart just the pen, versed to spill the tea. Plot involving, of my heart and soul’s evolving, the artistic breadth of one’s inked love provoking. Constant it flows, consisting of some of life’s woes. Yet, endlessly my love pours inked, a never ending love story. Transformation of a heart being led, penciled thoughts redefined, of love permanently inked, its essence defined. Every soul has its tipping point, love of a harmonious well, spills of one’s heart profoundly textured, visibly inked. By design, love’s artistry leaves its truest mark, of its fluidity drying so clear. One’s heart revealing, the tapestry of one’s innermost, love inked transparently pure!
Time waits for no one, doesn’t need anyone’s permission. Its movement progressive, its revolution massive, its impact beyond comprehension. What only time will tell, how hypnotizing its spell, until the hour rings its bell. Time is sensitive, its wisdom perceptive, its characteristic intrusive, its appendage reactive, its actions assertive; but yet, to your feelings susceptive. You can’t change its mind, but this you will find. Even though, you can’t sway hands of time, you can encapsulate its sublime. Don’t call it a crime, when on this side of time; become wasted days, wasted nights. We all get the same, moments in time, with no one to blame. Your heart thinking, time’s the game, your feelings have a hand in persuading. But, time isn’t totally heartless, twenty-four-seven vivid dreams truly endless. Time grants us visions, what a wide open heart receives, the enlightened moments perceived. Time’s strength, its beauty revealed within thus, our enduring light, compels its timeless might. Within the nexus of the soul’s progression, the heart’s fundamental decision, be emboldened by time’s momentous encounter. One’s heart and soul, understanding life’s greatest breadth is realized, through a course of time, propelled by love’s sequence of actionable events!
Perfection’s myth, imperfection this, of love’s divine kiss. A humble heart, knowing its presence, emboldened by the essence in one’s soul. One’s life so moved, by its the unintended mist. Undesirable features, not of what imperfection chooses, but of the confidence an unrestrained heart oozes. One’s heart, knowing its worth has nothing to prove, what heartfelt moments could never diss. Imperfections, demonstrate just this, flaws with walls, surface in of itself. A moment for one’s heart to texturize its soul’s mural, a mosaic portrayal extraordinaire. Imperfection, too hip to be square, perfection wouldn’t dare. Like, vapors within the wind, wayward perceptions alter, a fluent sway reshaping heart’s perspective. Through lens of hope, blemished dreams are made possible, obtained tangible. Love’s textured perfection thus, imperfectly perfect though us; celebrate its breathless beauty as this, imperfection’s picturesque bliss!
Within her, daylight, her endearing might. She’s a warrior, but her heart so wide open, you capture her soul. Forever hold her gaze, with just the breadth of your love. The petals of her love, deep like that of a crimson flower. Her aura, cast so much light it brightens the moon’s glow. Her worth, eclipses the radiance of the sun. Her love, shimmers more radiant than all the stars, her presence is never far. Her beauty, if you can’t see it, you can’t see the silhouette of her heart. But here’s the thing, her wings, angelic for her heart is that of an angel. Her quintessence, her heart draped with the fabric of her love, displaying the texture of her soul. Like a tree, her love is deep rooted, will stand the test of time, won’t easily be swayed. And if, you treat her like a lady, sweetly you will taste and see. Her love will bee, the breathless fragrance of her heart and soul. Her motherhood, her sisterhood, her womanhood, essence of a woman!
A Love Story! 
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