Tag: writing

Dearest Love!

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! 

Yours irrevocably!

WCR

Wednesday Proverb; Love’s Forte!

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 

WCR

Humorous Muse; Heart and the String!

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!

WCR

It’s Impression!

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!

WCR

Revisited: Soul Food!

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

WCR

Motivation’s Way; Love’s Constancy! 

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!

WCR

 

My Heart, Spoken For!

My heart, has never claimed to be eloquent, what’s deep down, what needs to be evident, what’s spoken for be relevant. My soul, bound by its vow, my heart tethered to the know how, to be married to its conviction. The moment, my heart jumped the broom, my soul was groomed to make room. In a world, wanting to silence your voice. What they fail to understand, for many years, my voice lived deep within a silent river. Drowning breathlessly, in an introverted see, of what my heart perceived. When, a child realizes his father, refuses to acknowledge his worth, mother was too preoccupied with life. His heart, could have found itself lost, within the depth of the silence. But, my words reserved, to let my soul be preserved, my heart be deserved, of being spoken for. Not enough, could have been the narrative, but my heart found an alternative. The spirit inside, said my heart was so much more, than what hopelessness deceives. In the midst of life’s battles, within the valley of shadows, my heart didn’t fear the unknown. My soul, persevered within the trenches, my heart kept focused under fire. It’s been tested, now it’s vested. A heart not ashamed, to let the story be known, what has been fortified. Pictures my heart paints, texturized by what my soul knows, profoundly framed in the meaning of its portrayal. And now, the words my soul finds, bleeds inked from the bottom of my heart, revealing they’re spoken for. When, the trajectory of my story, could have been predictable. The worth I found deep within, made it tenable. Within the stillness of my soul, Love made it known, my heart, spoken for!

WCR

On My Way to Heaven!

On my way to heaven, my heart met an angel, traversing time, in between our soul’s existence, love’s deepest breadth revealed. Thirty eight years, feels like a thousand, on our way to forever. Within her care, my heart in no haste, resting deep within love’s embrace. Trying to find, hoping to become, what my love needed to be, deeply enlightened. You see, heaven is my destiny, but before my soul journey’s there. This angel’s love, my soul’s mate, sent to search my heart, test my love’s resolve. My soul, wouldn’t dare claim, her heart doesn’t have wings. In my heart of hearts, her love takes flight, takes my love to new heights. My breath, doesn’t have to hold tight, deep in my soul this feels right. Love heaven sent, be a lifetime spent, knowing love heartfelt. Her heart’s angelic verb, likened to love’s healing herb. Her love a song, harped rhythmically felt strong. Love’s beauty capturing your gaze, its sway moving you all your days. Heaven, doesn’t seem a far off place, your heart totally eclipsed by the light of its hue. In her reflection, glimpsed the keeper of the stars. In between here, and eternity; lived, loved, discovered angels are real. Traversing the way of love’s celestial plane, my soul had an encounter. On my way to heaven, my heart, met an angel!

WCR

Wednesday Proverb; bye and bye!

The bye and bye, giving yesteryear its kiss, and say goodbye. Within the new, from time to time the heart will cry, remembering the bye and bye, how love wiped away tears, giving the soul wings to fly. Every heart, has encountered the saddest days of life. But hearts profoundly flourish, when we stop living looking behind, at what was. Sometimes, life calls with a bit of bad news, I want to hold you back; but good news, this too shall pass. A heart knowing how to weather the cold, never whethers if love’s warmth it will behold. In a world, where so many hearts just survive, clinging to the bye and bye. Like honey, love thrives, within the crevices of its hive. The road ahead is long, but the journey makes one’s resolve strong. So, mountains won’t have its way, valleys don’t have any sway. Tell life’s sorrows, the missteps of the past bye-bye, adios, cheerio, sayonara, arrivederci. So long, farewell; adieu, to you and you and you. I hate to go, but my heart’s not willing to miss this pretty sight; my worth’s awakening. What we have, what makes the heart and soul sing, embraced forevermore, in the here and now!

WCR

Ordinary Angels!

Why say, true love is not sustainable, when what sustains it, the will to let its breadth take flight. Some hearts say, love can be so exhausting, but what is love, if it doesn’t therefore take your breath, and never digress? Many are under the impression, being a soul’s-mates is a myth. But, what their heart fails to understand, if you chase after the bliss, love’s angelic hue you will surely miss. The secret to love’s lasting beauty, what compels it, what propels it, what undergirds it. Love is not just about feeling, but in seeing, and the being; seeing the need, being willing to act, be an ordinary angel. Showing its wings, love so angelic it sings. Even though, it seems love makes one’s heart blue, it should still remain true. A heart not willing to hide, settle with just giving ordinary love, but all what’s inside. Love, doesn’t have to be daring, just caring. It doesn’t have a winged angle, for its innermost to rise to the occasion. Be a light in the horizon, shines bright at every dawn, soaring to new heights. When you’re at your low, the love will show, like a river will flow, will unsheathe its bow. Ordinary angels, hearts willing to try with you, cry with you. Even with a broken wing, a heart willing to be tethered, will fly with you. Every heart, has within the ability to reveal, amongst us there are, Ordinary Angels!

WCR