Quiet Strength

Like the winter winds of mid-summer she lay beyond his reach.
Arms and fingers, stretched to their limits, rage against the world
That placed a chasm of chance and choices between them.
A shadow’s veil forever marking one and marring the other.
A rumble of rage, buried and reburied deep, etches it’s way to his lips and tongue.

Lips and tongue longing for a joining are left empty, vacant, and alone.
Passion’s swell and crest boil and burst forth across time and tide
As his heart’s need drifts beyond that which any can see.
Fingers reach out to touch him. To hold him.
An anchor once more for a shiftless soul to tether until with strength anew he takes one more step.


  1. What an amazing analogy. This was one of the first times, while writing, that I tried to objectively observe myself during the process. I found that this one did not write itself the way the first two seemed. This one took on it’s own life during the process. It was scary yet rewarding at the same time.

    Thank you for breathing life into this for me.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Interesting …
    Your response made me think of aged liquor, that is strong, but smooth. I thought of brandy, and when I researched it, here’s what I found, “The name brandy comes from the Dutch word brandewijn, meaning “burnt wine.” The name is apt as most brandies are made by applying heat, originally from open flames, to wine.” It would seem appropriate to describe your poems.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. It definitely is! I am so thrilled to be reading your work! I am going to spend all of my reading time the next few days, immersed in your blog. I am also totally inspired to work on my poetry most intensely this week!!!!

        Liked by 1 person

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