Lover’s Leap, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Lover's Leap

Lover’s Leap

Standing on the edge of a massive chasm
So deep is it that I can hear my voice
Vibrating nervously off the bottom
Dearly wondering if I have a choice

What is cherished stands on the other side
Action not taken soon shall be too late
The wild fire burning across will have died
There is not a reason to hesitate

Should I vault and my distance come up short
Will ever rest in peace on the chasm floor
If cowardly there shall be no retort
Either way have lost the one I adore

Love doesn’t always provide a bridge to cross
Chances need taking or suffer love’s loss

Desire Path, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Desire PathCrediton Hamlets: footpath through wheat field, Martin Bodman (2006)

Desire Path

The field now matured, with bright golden wheat.
All but a narrow path, of shoulders width,
Made by two lovers, to a glade of birch

Each day when the sun is no longer high
She now starts from the east, he from the west
Would come and these two vines would intertwine

Both are filled with tempestuous desire
A hunger their hearts yet to satiate
There is no want, the roaring fire to quelch

An island of refuge from any want
Here they feel so unadulterated
Ready to fulfill the other’s wishes

In their bed of myrtle they contemplate
The test of their love when the ground is white
Are their feelings but a mere summer love?

Lovers’ Night, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Lovers' Night

Lovers’ Night

Sun soon to be below the horizon
Our silhouettes blending into darkness
Our night together will have just begun
Our love of each other time to express

We’ll quell the night’s chilling breeze with our fire
There will be no need for wood nor matches
As heat shall come from internal desire
And closeness of our constant embraces

Come walk with me to our hidden retreat
Hand in hand we will glide over the sand
Stopping occasionally lips to meet
Together our loving hearts will expand

The deep hunger we feel our love to taste
Moments together cannot be replaced

 

Summer Evening, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Summer EveningNordic summer evening, Richard Bergh (c.1899)

Summer Evening

This day is a gift, as they meet perchance
The sight of each other hearts leap for joy
Hoping this time there shall be a romance
O, fearful of a chance both may destroy

There is politeness at a safe distance
Each awkwardly fumbling for what to say
Looking to the still waters in a trance
Each wondering if they should walk away

“Isn’t this a beautiful day,” blurting out
Both in unison, followed by a laugh
Just may be the end of their verbal drought
They have cut their distance by more than half

Now inside one another’s comfort zone
One awaiting the other to bestirred
The absence of any words both bemoan
They smiled, parted without another word

 

The Lovers, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Lovers

The Lovers, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Selene glowing from her throne above
Helios’s chariot now past the gate
Venus has sent to us a turtle dove
Cupid with his arrow has sealed our fate

All our inhibitions do we dispose
Coming together with such tender touch
Like two feathers we glide into repose
Each other’s flesh do we lovingly clutch

Softness of thy goddess body I tour
Finding your wetness I look at your eyes
They tell me thou are desirous of more
To caress me between thy silken thighs

Our bodies now united as just one
To be enraptured until morning sun

 

New Love, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Hynais, Vojtech Adalbert - The Girl with AzaleaThe Girl with Azalea, Vojtech Adalbert Hynais (1913)

New Love, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

A new found love should be put in a pot.
Tend to its every need right from the start.
It is fragile, best to forget it not.
Let that pot be made of your very heart.

Love between the two be equally true,
Then it shall in no time fully blossom,
The graces of love to both will accrue.
Attend with great care shall never succumb.

Through the years there will be many a tear,
Will be real love that helps conquer fear,
And to make the sunny days reappear,
With the desire to remain ever near.

For heart to grow love is its basic food,
That tingle of long past was its prelude.