Romance Abounds

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Romance Abounds

Candles lit in a swiftly darkening room
Bringing new light to the dusky gloom.
A wine bottle cooling on the window sill
Two goblets sparkling ready to be filled.
Wine and candlelight seek to enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

A table laden with savories
Is waiting in the warm room for me.
A fire dances in the glowing grate
I am ever so grateful I was not late.
Savories and firelight seek to enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

You come to me with ease and grace
A look of wondrous love on your face.
I moan a sound of gentle surprise
When I see flames flickering in your eyes.
Grace and flickering flames enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

You take my hand, put a goblet in it
I did not notice the pouring bit.
For I was floating in a moment timeless
My body alive but utterly mindless.
Goblets of floating time enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

When your lips at long last meet mine
I am drunk from your attention, not wine.
When you pull me along with a smile
All you have done is more than worthwhile.
Lips that taste of smiles enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

Trust

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Trust

In the dark deep night of a Winter’s day
I ponder thoughts that happen my way.
Warm by your side, yet a chill draft comes
Making me think of the nature of love.

I do not trust that we will be perfect
That our love we will never reject.
I know we are human and likely to fall
If put on a pedestal haughty and tall.

I do not trust that we will never fail
Our bodies are wicked and tend to be frail.
The best intentions come crashing down
When piled by two lovers and sloppily bound.

Trust can be a most  flighty thing.
Trust hovers about on flimsy wings.
One thing we know, there can be no doubt
We trust in each other to work things out.

Love Is Not Fair

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Love Is Not Fair

Love is not fair, and lovers will find
It is better with love to be tolerant and kind.
Forgiving the faults of the human being
Who all of your faults is constantly seeing.

Love is not fair, it is never equal.
Your hope in your heart, your heart on a wheel.
Spinning and rolling day after day.
It seems things never go your way.

Love is not fair, it will turn on you,
But your lover will be there to comfort you.
Grateful, you will lean and be held.
Growing stronger as the two of you meld.

Love is not fair, but it is so right.
Seeking a hand in the dead of night.
Taking control then giving completely.
Helping and guiding each other tenderly.

Against The Foggy Night

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Against The Foggy Night

I do not want your constant care,
Nor seek your presence to be always there.
I do not need to be your whole world,
Nor seek for my cup to be overfilled.
I just need to see the strengthening sight
Of your silhouette against the foggy night.

I do not need you to run with me,
Nor seek the comfort of your company.
I do not need you to hold my hand,
Nor seek you to love me as only you can.
I just need to see the strengthening sight
Of your silhouette against the foggy night.

I do not need your compliments,
Nor seek your approval to be confident.
I do not need your criticism or praise,
Nor seek your attention to brighten my days.
I just need to see the strengthening sight
Of your silhouette against the foggy night.

When The Moon Is Full

From “The Poems Of John H.Watson”
Reprinted By M.Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

When The Moon Is Full

When the moon is full in the Summertime
My lover dances with the fireflies.
Bare feet step on the velvet lawn
Dancing for me till the chorus of dawn.

When the moon is full in the Harvest time
My lover feasts on a bounty fine.
Giving me bites of sweet plum and pear
Running fingers through my windblown hair.

When the moon is full in the time of Spring
Flowers and green herbs my lover brings.
Brews a soothing tea of Lemon-balm
Kissed with clover honey sweet and warm.

When the moon is full in the Wintertime
My lover beds me in woolens fine.
Makes a toasty nest against the frost
In comfort and love we both are lost.

When the moon is full tonight my love,
Evening glistening from the light above,
Let me show you the moonscape’s gleam.
Taking you lovingly on silver moonbeams.

Close

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Close

Close, my love, you are far away,
Thinking thoughts of another day.
Far from seeking touches tender.
Far from loving’s keen surrender.

Close, my love, I need to see you,
Open-handed, smiling as you do.
When you gift me with attention.
When you pull in my direction.

Close, my love, let there be no gap,
Let your arms around me wrap.
Hold me in your blithe embrace.
Hold me till my pulse doth race.

Close, my love, enter my halls,
Pulling down cold stony walls.
Tread fleetly to the inner chamber.
Tread fleetly to catch the biding embers.

Close, my love, warm my gelid room,
Chase away the dark and gloom.
Pull me into your thermal sphere.
Pull me into your thoughts sincere.

Close, my love, encompass me,
Make me see all that you can see.
Take me into your precious mind.
Take me where I will not be blind.

Close, my love, I am lost and needy,
Come closer to the heat of my body.
I want you as close as the very air.
I want you to be as close as you dare.

Close, my love, do not have a fear.
For I will whisper in your trembling ear,
Enchanted words to make you clearly see.
Enchanted words to bring you close to me.

The Wild-ling

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

The Wild-ling

I chanced in the Spring while on a spree
To find white with blossoms an apple tree.
In a woodland far from any home,
A strange wanderer this wood did roam.
Who dropped a seed in this clearing
That grew into an apple tree wild-ling.

I wondered if the apples would be fine,
And vowed to return at harvest time.
Walking away to find something new.
I noted returning as something to do,
When the Autumn crispness is in the air,
And harvest bounty is rich and fair.

When Autumn came I was pleased to remember
The wild-ling tree and the promise of September.
Apples tart and sweet in silence growing,
Only I and the unknown wanderer knowing
The undisturbed spot where a wild-ling stood.
A harvest for no one evil or good.

I took you with me to the secret glen
Where the wild-ling swayed in the wind.
Dropping its crop of apples for none,
Ripened and rosy red from the sun.
You picked a fruit, examined it for awhile.
You took a bite with a skeptical smile.

I soon joined you and took a bite.
The juicy sweetness tasting just right.
The wild-ling had the flavor of old,
Ripe and tart, sweet and bold.
We both sat down and ate our fill.
Stuffing our pockets to eat at will.

I never told anyone else of the place.
When you are lucky enough to have a taste
Of something no one else will treasure,
You hold it close to enjoy at your leisure.
When you find yourself a precious wild-ling,
Savor the satiating feast it doth bring.

Quiet Love

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Quiet Love

The morning sleep still in your eyes,
You smiled at me and I glowed inside.
Over coffee steaming hot and strong,
You buttered my toast and passed it on.
While I was reading the daily paper,
You threw down a journal for me to read later.
Then opened the curtain to let in the light,
Stopped as you passed to squeeze my hand tight.

This quiet love on this simple day
Means more to me than I can say.

The morning passed in sweet quietude,
With busy work and things to do.
You noticed my melancholy mood.
Asked me to join you, if I would,
On a walk and then a proper tea.
As if you do not do enough for me.
Taking my coat, you helped me on with it
You caressed my shoulder and lingered a bit.

This quiet love on this simple day
Means more to me than I can say.

In the evening you built a bright fire.
The light reflecting my growing desire.
You sat by my side contemplating the flames.
Your eyes all aglow, your mind far away.
Reaching, unseeing, you grasped my arm.
Here by our hearth, so safe and warm,
You turned towards me bathed in firelight.
Your face full of innocent trust in the night.

This quiet love on this simple day
Means more to me than I can say.

Beachy Head

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883-1886

Beachy Head

Take my hand and follow me
To Beachy Head by the sea.
I will show you wonders there
We will tumble, get sand in our hair.

Through the waves we will splash
I’ll slip in the foam and you will laugh.
Happily we’ll play in the sand,
I’ll build you a castle for fairyland.

You may bury me up to the neck.
As long as you give me several pecks.
A kiss for every well placed shovel,
And one more for all my trouble.

I will buy you a tasty treat,
Saltwater taffy, salty and sweet.
So sticky and gooey we will wash our hands,
In the lapping waves as the afternoon ends.

When sunset comes we’ll watch the show.
You’ll tell me all the facts you know
About refraction and solar rays.
I’ll know we had a memorable day.

Later we’ll dine on fish and chips,
And I will kiss those salty lips.
Arm in arm we’ll greet the night sky
Take a walk on Beachy Head, you and I.

Love Is A River

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Love is a River

Love is a river that flows to the sea.
It starts with a tear of gladness.
You can not believe that another can be
Someone who gives you such happiness.
The teardrops that fell
Join with others as well.

Love is happy tears that make a pool,
Overflowing with feelings pure.
Bubbling rivulets, sweet and cool,
Seeking release, strong and sure.
Numerous rivulets join as one
Sparkling joyfully under the sun.

Love is a brook, chortling free.
Exploring like a child on a Summer’s day.
Wandering past wildflowers and trees.
Playing with wild things along the way.
A brook so bright and fresh
Giving you peace and rest.

Love is a river that flows to the sea.
Brooks growing steadily till a river’s running.
Mighty and wide carving deeply
Into your heart, forever increasing.
Tears, brooks, river and sea
Let me show my love to thee.