since i could poem at 14
i wanted to be a lover’s poet
the kind that makes you want to love harder,
love better, love love,
i wanted to swoon lovers and console
spurned ones and be the kind that makes you want –
to live on earth forever.
i wanted to write for you,
and for me, because i thought that was my kind of love
but, i now no longer seek to grasp it
though it may linger within my reach.
i am a love poet alright,
but not that kind,
(fortunately) not that kind –
i am the kind who doesn’t buy into all that;
the things i know, are not for mere lovers
(not for mere lovers at all;
& these things i know are sweeter than raw honey).
sweeter – there is but one Great Lover,
and I call Him Providence
& everyday, He is with me as i walk my mile