Young Love

What’s more intriguing 

than a young girl’s infatuation?

Feelings intense, feeling’s that sing.

A young girl’s love is a beautiful thing.

But like a bird learning to fly

the temptation arises to see how high.

Never knowing what she’ll meet up there.

The eagles, hawks and all who share

the majesty and brilliance 

of the high open air.

A realm designated from the start

for the fearless, the noble 

and strong of heart.

The young girl tests her wings of love,

fluttering quickly like those of a dove.

An eagle swoops down, smooth and fast.

That adventure ends, maybe her last.

So listen well, you sweet young things.

Love is a mystery that softly sings

of a promise as vast and big as the sky

but more often than not

leaves you to cry.

True Love

The waves are pounding down below me.

The sun disappears setting the night free.

Darkness enhances campfires up and down

like glowing diamonds on a black background.

A warm wind blows into my face

coming off the sea from a distant place.

I smile to myself, contentedness surrounds me.

I ponder it’s meaning staring out at the sea.

My gaze drifts up to the distant city lights

edging the shoreline like a necklace that delights

an eternal goddess standing proud and sure

whose breath is the wind, an enticing lure.

Forgotten Love 

So, who writes poems 

for the ugly forlorn?

Eye’s radiantly dull,

skin blemished and worn.

Lips full but cankered

waiting to be kissed.

Love is the mystery

they always missed.

Blind dates forever

who never show.

A glimpse from a doorway

then off they go.

Tired clichés

about the beauty within

never made it happen

but said with a grin

and that look

they always denied.

The look of pity

by all who have lied

about this wonderful thing 

they love to call love.

Given to the beautiful

from somewhere above.

Sketch and poems by Dave Holloway