Sappy love, seeps with a distinct texture, the soul drenched in the aura of love’s tapestry. Never needing a particular occasion, to tap into its quintessence, hence. Melting heart and soul, with the ambiance of its warmth. Every day, love, gives an open heart its due, its essence laid gently on the soul, the dawn of its breathless dew. Love’s sappy hue, one’s heart, not missing the forest for the trees. Love that drips tenderly, captivates the soul’s gaze, the heart becoming its perpetual muse. Like that of pure maple syrup, tasty love coats the breadth of one’s soul. Enhancing the shades of one’s heart, with the nectar of love’s divine fragrance. Beauty of its enchanted hue, found within the depth of its sappy allure, love’s sweet cure!
My Dearest love, within the depth of my soul, rest the virtue of thy charm. Deep within thy arms, you are my heart, but I don’t have to write that here. Every day, again and again you search within my soul, see if my love is pure. Dearest love, my heart would never presume, to say your meaning is just a verb. Dearest love, doesn’t need a special time, or space; deep love flows constant, a deep river. On the tip of my heart, words etched within the crevices of my being, love’s essence spills inked. Valiant love, defies time’s wishes, one’s soul the muse of thy rhyme. Roses red, violets misty blue, my heart’s love true. Dearest, you’ve captured my imagination, taken my every breath, lingering to become my, entire heart and soul. They say, sharing is caring, but my soul says, daring is preparing, one’s heart to be of love’s service, forever and always. Love is a connection, a bond never to be broken; never-the-less, but more than. LOVE, forgive me, if my words seem bold, the half not yet told. For I am, my heart is, draped in the fabric of thy intimacy. Thy beautiful texture, unveiled my soul, makes known thy endearing might. My dearest love, my heart is utterly lost for words. These words, a mere breadth of my heart, versed in the tapestry of thy crimson hue. For my heart’s sake, bare my soul, let thy passion be, the confessions of my undying love!
Courage to become, strength to be, resides within the depth of love’s wheelhouse. A heart’s resilience, not derived from knowing how to exist, but every heartbeat knowing how to thrive. Valiant love, draws mightily from its quiver, wielding confidently from the sheath of thy heart, to slay one’s fears. One’s heart and soul, doesn’t need an impenetrable armor to withstand. Just an unyielding confidence, to stand thy ground, in the face of adversity. Arrows drawn, will thus pierce the fabric of one’s mind, but never reaches the heart of one’s fortified beliefs. Overcoming slings and things, undergirded by the breadth of your soul’s forte. A heart, excels not by its ability, but the essence of its inevitability. The most vulnerable part of what cuts deep, not what leaves you wounded, but the thrust of what penetrates your beliefs the deepest. Having, the fortitude to keep your forte intact, compelling one’s soul to take heart, when circumstances test your soul’s resolve, the echoes of its vigor resounding. Hopes and dreams, encounter the right perception not by chance, but of an intentional understanding, acquiring the right perspective. Deep love, intuitive hilt to the tip of its sphere, its brilliance revealing the beauty of its totality; love’s forte!
“For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.” 2 Peter 1:5-8 NIV – Feb 5, 2025
Some hearts assume, a man deep in love doesn’t relish the moments, his better half tugs his heartstrings like a breathless cello, hello. Making some needlessly presume, she’s behind the scenes pulling his strings. Oh, but here’s the thing, a devoted man inherently, loves his significant other becoming a trusted composer, his heart forever being her muse. A heart with no strings, love not tethered to anything, echoing the depth of love’s heartfelt thing. Words having such a harmonious ring, till death I do, tether my string. And so, it’s never a bother; rather, a secure man feels elated, knowing her love cares enough to want, to strum his heart like no other. As for me and my heart, for four decades the same woman has been tugging my strings. Sometimes, as men software can lag, and insecure men just want to brag and boast. How their love is the most, and another would never be allowed to pull their string. But tell me, what joy does it bring, if a heart’s violin didn’t have strings? You see, every man needs to know, her love is so instrumental, for years to make his soul’s acoustics sing. Men, the symphonic rhythm of her love, orchestrates the conditions, to be swayed by our love’s rendition. A woman, would gladly give up all the bling, to know, for her your heart still has a thing. No heart, desires a puppet on a string; have the genuine love thang, with the most beautiful southern twang. Heart on a string, it’s absolutely a thing; love pulls you in, ask of you to lean in. And even, when words Sting, like a bee, or the man with the legendary music thing; “Fields of Gold.” Wherewith, promises are never made lightly, of heartstrings strung together, finding the common thing is this. Be hearts bound by three stranded string, what makes the love thing become a stronger cling. Sharing is caring, but baring is daring, to put your soul on the line; Heart, and String!
What do you call a feeling, pressed tenderly up against your heart, but yet, felt deep within the crevices of your soul? How do you depict an essence, so profound it alters your perception forever? What do you call something, that collides with your heart deeply, without leaving a chasm in the depth of your soul? Is there a word, given to an encounter so impactful, its mark is left etched on your heart? Its ink, revealing from the pours of your soul, its tattooed hue. What perspective do you give to moments, its existence neither space nor time can erase? Is there a significance you give to something, which utterly leaves your heart exposed, to bare your soul? What do you say about something, you know that its presence lingers, and certain its breadth hovers? What price renders the significance, of a thing that poetically draws… you into its portrait, that causes a rosy frame of reference to bloom breathlessly, and its ability to give a heart wings to soar? What term does one’s soul use to convey, a heartfelt sense of being, an intuitive sense of needing? In its representation, even broken things are made beautiful. A broken heart, whole nevertheless. Rose petals laid bare of its stem, still just as sweet. Butterflies within its cocoon state, will confidently find its wings. What name do you give to the thing, that transcends? You call it, Love, the beautiful impression, left imprinted on the heart!
Who are you, when no one’s looking? Does your heart, try to see what your soul can get away with? Do you break promises, not caring if it will break someone’s hopes, dreams? Do you get mad, when things don’t go your way, abandoning someone else’s feelings, to elevate your own? Who are you, under the cover of darkness? Does your light shine profoundly, or flicker intermittently, not realizing your heart can become someone’s lighthouse, within their darkest moment. Do you perceive, because you have tasted bitterness, it’s your heart’s prerogative to let others get a taste, of all the bitter bottled inside? Who’s to say, they don’t drink their own portion, daily? Who are you, when life tests your resolve, pulls heart and soul in two different directions? Do you hold it together, trying not to seem weak, or allow yourself to be held, in love’s embrace? Who do you become, when storms beat without remorse, against your heart’s beliefs? Do you throw your humanity out the window, bolt the door of your heart, hoping it will restrain the flood of emotions? Instead, let your heart make way, your soul emboldened by love’s sway, to be true. So, what will be revealed, when your heart is undressed, and bares your soul? Will the motivation be, emanating love’s enduring truth, with the grace that it affords, through the beauty of its unwavering hue? Jan 27, 2025
Attentive love, easy on the heart, warm to its touch, sautéd tastefully with its holistic simplicity. Essence enriched, dished abundantly, served wholeheartedly. Soul food, full of compassion, filled with appreciation, seasoned with gratitude, marinated in deep affection. Even with just a hint of admiration, gives it the right amount of clarity. That your love’s language, food for the soul. But, why not kick it up a notch, add to it some; “je ne sais quoi,” something, indicative of your heart’s desire, emboldened by one’s spice for life. A hint of this, a pinch of that, adds to the allure of one’s love being, tasteful. A sense of needing, excites a heart in giving, best portion of themselves. An atmosphere of love’s aroma, will linger profoundly, resonates deeply. Guessing what works, quirks tainting the heartfelt appeal, one’s heart not in it. Soul food, not made with love, creates a tasteless stew, lacking its most critical element. Adding to it genuine trust, enhances the nature, the indulgence of love’s intentional ingredients. Love, not stirred with consistent awareness, a feeling of being burnt. Indifference, making the experience unappealing, the encounter hard to swallow. Even, in the midst of bitterness, day after day, set the table regardless. Line the heart with the fabric of love, and the ambiance will become the soul’s feast. A heart with room, indulges in seconds, what first impressions may have negated. Sharing your heart, feeding your soul; endearing. Truth be told, moments the soul holds, the heart being bold. Love served on a platter, never meant to flatter, but rather, feed one’s soul. A heart bland, its innermost likened to its batter, not sweetened with the rich extracts of love. Hearts content, skip through the meadows of life, famished feast on love’s sustenance, food for one’s soul!
*** A post revisited, a rewrite of the original, shared Nov 1, 2021 New picture, new take, but nevertheless, food for the soul. *** If anyone is interested, this link is to the original post. Link to Soul Food: Nov 1, 2021
Wisdom, not hidden away in solitary confinement, but confines itself to a place in one’s soul. Where, someday, one’s heart can profoundly discover its true nature, within the wonders of its transformative possibilities!
True greatness, in of itself never something achieved through sheer will power. Progression in its pursuit, will surely become achievable, one’s heart being open to its greater purpose. Its greatest power through you, wielded as true… greatness!
Real love, doesn’t need a specific moment to act, if true, its actions in of itself revealed as intuitive. Its strength, not needing an invitation to show up and be, profound. Its courage, triumphant in its resilience to become, love!
Momentously, love is progressive, its nuances massive, its resilience never passive, its truth never aggressive. Vigilant love, an attentive soul willing to let their heart be a safe place. Keeping careful watch, not allowing the heart to drift into an indifferent space. As difficult as life can be, the most adversarial encounter a soul faces, confronting a procrastinating heart. Preoccupied to realize that indifference, lurks in the shadows with one intention, rob a heart of its humanity. Like a thief in the night, will infiltrate dreams, upend hopes. An observant heart, guarded with a watchful soul, ready to wield love’s endearing might. A soul equipped, with not just six senses, but every heart’s touched sensor, compassion. No heartbeat, should ever renounce its destiny, to be profound. Love’s constant vigilance, emboldens the heart’s benevolence, deepening the soul’s quintessence. So therefore, let your love’s vigilance be constant, your heart’s true benevolence be emboldened, to deepen your soul’s quintessence. Sometimes, it’s wise to retreat, momentarily, but never prudent to let your soul surrender, to apathy. A heart blinded, not open to the sWay, love’s constancy!
Deep within the heart, room is made, to allow light to come in, let one’s quintessence be known. Heart and soul, leaving no stone unturned, make sure they’ll be room, for love to become. Space available, a heart full, but yet with arms wide open, to embrace selfless humanity. Room in one’s heart gives latitude, fault produces attitude, space exhibits altitude. The heart’s expansion, the breadth of love’s capacity, depth of the soul’s propensity. Love speaks volumes, come one, come all; there’s room at the table, come partake of heartfelt goodness. Deep in love’s pantry, substantive room for the hopeless, optimal space for one’s heart to receive, organic love. Eager hearts, are watching and longing, looking if there’s an ounce of compassion, to fill the void in their soul? Making room is not easy, but necessary for love to be preserved. Love, yields to hearts its bounty, not given a proverbial shelf life. Don’t presume, flowers won’t bloom if given room, for love’s fertile affection to be!
A Love Story! 
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