Loop (an acrostic poem)

Image: kidsmathgamesonline.com/images/pictures/shapes/circle.jpg

Like my love for you, a circle has no beginning or end

Of course, let two equal circles touch and now you have infinity

Only that infinity is how long I want to be with you, and those two circles are us

Perhaps that’s why a circle represents my love for you that has no beginning or end

Breathe (an acrostic poem)

Bringing in the air slowly

Releasing it through his lips

Every cycle a glimpse into her scent

As he kissed her neck

That touch caused her to gasp

He trembled as he pulled back

Even the air seemed to shimmer

 

Image: 66.media.tumblr.com/0a790b1e2d21cee204522c2bfc138093/tumblr_pdq9reatqS1upbx6j_1280.jpg

King (an acrostic poem)

Knowing how to rule with a light touch

Isaac was a benevolent ruler until he tried to reach too far

Now he was holding on for dear life as his realm slipped through his fingers

Giving up the crown was easy after they chopped off his hands

 

Image: i.etsystatic.com/19451043/r/il/00dd7a/1822293453/il_794xN.1822293453_fdq9.jpg

Rebecca (an acrostic poem)

Really can’t believe you said “I do”

Even though it was twenty-three years ago

Because I still hear the echoes of those words every day

Each touch and smile deepen my bond to you

Could never imagine not taking this journey with you

Counting myself blessed beyond any measure

Always and forever yours.

 

 

Image: cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2018/08/16/19/56/wedding-rings-3611277__340.jpg

Bloody Kiss

Tap.  Tap.  Tap.  The chips of virgin white marble flew with each hit of the chisel from the hammer, littering the floor with inspiration.  Morgan had spent seven days going over this particular block looking at what was hidden within.  Seven days of laying on of hands, to get the feel of the rock.  She spent hours upon hours looking at the block from every conceivable angle.  Now she was obsessed with releasing the imprisoned statue held within the marble tomb.  She tasted flecks of cold hard marble as she continued her work.  The sound from her chisel and hammer gave her clues as to how she was doing with her excavation.  The smell of her sweat mixed with the marble dust made her almost intoxicated.

Tap. Tap. Tap.  The statue began to come to life.  Morgan could feel it start to breathe with the life she was pouring out of her hands.  It began to flex the muscles she carved into its limbs.  The creator was working on the created, while the created worked on the creator; a circle of energy that kept building and building until…

Crack.  A small imperfection of the marble block made itself known with the release of energy and sound pent up for millennia. Morgan stopped her hammer mid swing and let it drop of her deadened fingers.  With a second crack it fell to the floor.  The created life fled the lump of stone, leaving a petrified corpse behind.  Morgan felt her creativity evaporate under the glare of the broken piece of art in front of her.  She placed her chisel softly on her lips, as if to kiss the whole endeavor goodbye.

Morgan puckered her lips a bit, feeling the sharp end slice her lightly.  The blood she tasted woke her out of her torpor.  She picked up the flawed marble statue and gave it a bloody kiss.  Where she had kissed the marble left a blood red “lipstick” mark.  That made her smile.  It was almost like a goodnight kiss on their first date.  She would figure this piece out eventually.  All good relationships just needed time.  She left the marble behind on her table, the chisel laid beside.  Tomorrow she would try again, but first she needed to take care of this bloody lip.