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Franco

of

Cranston, RI, US

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Why Is It So

by

Franco

Why is it so
that all is not as it seems?
Lovers gaily laughing
yet shattering all our dreams.

Why is it so
that we are often a tool?
For others who
will play you for a fool.

Why is it so?
We extend a helping hand.
To be burned
and burned again. I just don't understand.

All I ask is
why is it so.


Memories

by

Franco

We sat by the ocean.
She in all her beauty
I at her feet gazing
into eyes I could not fathom.
Eyes as deep as the sea.

She wears the scent of flowers,
earth and all delicious.
I drink her in trying to
absorb her being. Inhaling deeply
so as to take something with me
for when we part. Something to have
in her absence.

Something to take out, hold
and examine. A small part of
her to show she is real, evidence that
we had been together. Specks of
sand cling to her and sparkle
like diamonds in the sunlight.

The soft warm breeze blows
her long shiny hair around
her face playing a peek a boo
game. We share thoughts, deep
emotions and part.

Later I reach for my prize
but can find only memories.
I recall the scent of flowers
and diamonds sparkling in
the sun and I am lonelier for it.


An Encounter

by

Franco

I came upon her from behind,
as she walked along a country road.
Hoping she wouldn’t mind
I stopped and watched for a while.

So engrossed was I
to see this vision
I had missed for
an eternity
it seemed, until now
sweet relief.

Her long brown hair serpentine
dancing and swaying with each step
A snake charming it’s charmer.
Supple hips seductively keeping time
moving with a rhythm that belongs only to her.

She turns and there! The dazzling smile
the smile I hope for.. The smile I desire.
I want to taste her lips. I need her kiss.
Just one perhaps. I burn for her touch.

The sunlight plays upon her face
picking up bits of silver in her hair.
Lighting her eyes, is that love I see?
Emotion so pure I want to cry.
Her beauty makes my heart race.
She is as fresh as a spring day.

We speak but I don't hear
I drink her in, swallowing hungerly
Taking what I can while I can
She'll be gone in minutes and I fear
I shall starve again.

She starts again, hair swaying
hips moving each playing off the other
in rythym with each step
I think I'll watch a while
I hope she doesn't mind.


Tha Lake House

by

Franco

The little house sat by the lake
neatly tucked in by the shore.
A very quiet and soulful place
One couldn't ask for anything more.

Hidden amongst trees and shrubs
nestled against the storm.
A retreat from all the worlds' woes,
a place to keep your heart warm.

The rain was gently falling
on a day so very gray.
And she was softly calling
with words she need not say.

Her luxurious hair piled high,
tendrils falling about.
A vision of beauty is she.
My true love I have no doubt.

Her eyes were glowing satin,
her soft skin silky smooth.
Trying to read all that I could,
I'm lost in the volumes of her mood.

All about her is deep contemplation
To herself, alone, far, far above
connected somehow to me
she envelops me with love.

With my finger ever so gently
I trace the lines of her nakedness
Along her back and soft curves,
unable to stop I plant a kiss.

She turns, half smiles, distracted
and returns to her reverie.
Peering far off on the water.
Seeing things only she can see.

This persona a total stranger
I get a peek at what's in store
Our life's filled with happiness.
My heart knows so much more.

She possess all I want to discover
each gem one by one to be plucked
from the abundant lode that is her soul
each to take, cradle and shuck.

I catch a glimpse behind her eyes
private thoughts marching single file.
Each guarded and embraced by she
I sit and wonder all the while.

Gazing at me, quietly smiling.
Serenity on her face.
At peace?
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
I cannot find a trace.

I look into eyes of love
soft and gentle,
they warm my soul.
Seeing more of what I'm not meant to see
this woman makes me whole.

I so often want to take her
and cradle her from the woe
To wrap her in my protective arms
and tell her " please don't go."

But soon we are packing our thoughts
Collecting what we need.
To live our lives separately.
It just makes my heart bleed.

She drives off to her life.
I drive off to mine.
How sad that things
get turned around.
Perhaps it will change in time.