Used To Be

It used to be about love -
the meaning, the endurance,
the deeper needs fulfilled.

Quiet moments, mesmerized
by just a gentle feeling
of contentment.

Distance was an oddity.
Togetherness was in.
A joint endeavor, lived within
the greater whirl and spin.

A stolen kiss,
that midnight bliss,
two lovers holding hands.

Starlight shining in your eyes,
the moon come full
at our command.

And oh, the joy of lullabies
when you and I were one
One will, one hope, one great desire,
one ever-burning, living fire.

It used to be about love...

Now all our days become a separation.
Others get to name the games we play.
Hustle and worry, take off in a hurry.
Leave loving for some other day and time.

Yet the countdown passed its peak
so long ago. Days of youth no longer
seek us out. Don't stop to take a breath
or you might start again to wonder
what it's really all about.

Inspiration, aspiration - dreams
of youth untried, yet true - become
no more than just a plague
of memories and bygone days.

It used to be about love...

If we rearrange the patterns and
the habits of our days, do you think
that love might come again, to stay?

Days spent isolation, when the rain
kept us inside. The warmth of an
embrace when winter winds
would blow too high.

Lights turned low, the candles lit.
Flames dancing off our fingertips.
Touching close, we dared create
the heat of sun in summer rays.

It was enough.
It was the best.
Why did it go away...?

It used to be about love...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...