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The album

BB+TBWe will never be this young again

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We always knew that, but didn’t

Believe it, until one day, looking

At pictures of how we were, when

 

We were that young, smiling photos,

The happiness blended with youth,

We had to confess that time had

Passed, happily and with the stealth

 

Of time slipping by, unnoticed and

Quieter than the images of those young

Happy people looking back at us

 

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In sync

500 Posts500plusvia Daily Prompt: Partner

It’s not easy navigating a partnership. Admit it, you and your beloved are not always in sync. Love and marriage are the ultimate alliance, the pinnacle opportunity to cooperate and collaborate.

There are other such connections we get to make. Early on, we form friendships which may resemble alliances we will have later in life. We partner with the cute little boy in our kindergarten class. We are assigned to a team-often of two- to dissect a frog in high school; we sense an affiliation with our lab partner.


On the disstaff side, as it were, there was an adage that said, “Take a partner, get a gun.”
I was reminded of this once while driving past 9 Partners Road somewhere in suburban New York. How many guns would these unfortunates need to settle their situation?

Law firms may have an answer to this cunundrum. Judging by the names on their marquees, they are accustomed to large syndicates. It’s always a good plan to allow an attorney to parse a state of affairs that might involve firearms.


The adage quoted above, despite the many jokes about matrimony, does not apply to your union with your life partner. At its best, the conjugal is an idyllic condition.

#love-story · another love poem · love · love poem

May 3rd: 25 Years

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CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=324182

When did we go from

Young and in love to

Old and in love still?

Of course, we never

Really were young in love–

Our love sprang in midlife

And grew with companionship

And care, caring as we did

One about the other, but

Honestly, when you are in

Love, you are always young–

Now our hair is no longer grey

It has turned white, age

Has struck us and thrust us

Into a place we never

Expected, one where care

And caring matter more than

Ever they did when we were

Young and in love, although love

Has been our constant, and still

Love shall remain steadfast,

 

Love will be our Polar star.

#love-story · heart · love · love poem

Stalwart hearts

aheartStrident hearts, stalwart hearts,

Hearts as flighty as a deck of cards, capricious

And whimsical, or hearts as devoted as the proverbial

Doves, sincere as life-long fidelity, sentimental but not

Lost to sentimentality. The heart, a muscle, often stands in

For love. It is represented as an organ of desire, subject

To the arrows that Cupid throws our way, recognizing

The object of our devotion. There is much to be said of

The heart, stalwart or strident, fickle or loyal.

#love-story · heart · love · love poem

Hearts and flowers

aheartCan it be that the heart, a muscle, is an

Organ of desire? When it stands in for love, does it help

Us recognize our best selves, and find a soul mate?

Does the heart understand that love is better than

Lust? Are there hearts less choosy, easier to seduce?

Are some more finicky, like Shakespeare’s shrew,

Unwilling to submit without a struggle, and proofs

Of sincerity, and like-to-likemindedness

 

#love-story · love · love poem · poetry

Heart II Heart

aheartThe heart’s a muscle, often standing in for love,

Beating 72 pumps per minute, fuelling our feelings of

Tenderness and remorse. Are we trivializing the work it does,

Just keeping us alive, powering us with the sustenance we need,

Nourishing every other organ with the blood-fuel that charges

Rapidly through our veins? This seems like it would be enough

Yet we demand so much more. Our heart must recognize our

Soul mate so we can live a heartfelt life and be our best self

depend on you · love · love poem · sharing

We are the other plus one

BecksVisitFtLauderdaleIt’s so easy to appropriate the other.

I am yours, you are mine.

Names, sounding so strange at first,

Quickly become our own.

The other, no longer unfamiliar, is now us.

We resonate in every syllable of tenderness.

Fully assimilated, the other is no longer

Unaccountable, or unexpectedly odd.

We, I and the other, are as one, in tandem,

We act together, we are decidely us.