Love is accommodating. Love is not rigid in its nature — its elasticity stretches to the limit and still holds everything together. Forgiveness is Love’s greatest gift. Love bestows grace and is gracefully beautiful. Love’s deepest depths may require sacrifice without acknowledgement, thankfulness or reciprocation from its receiver. Love’s essence is manifested in true believers. Love is steadfast in excellent health and more-so in illness near death. Love is not sex, but through intimate sexual expressions Love can be made manifest. Love is eternal. Sometimes, it can be viewed as senseless and irrational. By nature, Love is transcendent with many intricate layers in beautiful colors. Love may require you to stand against opposing sentiment without even an inch of relent. Love is a precious gift heaven sent. Even in the face of death, Love will provide you unfathomable strength. Love is often proclaimed with ultra sincerity in last breaths. Love is spiritual. Love is ethereal. Love touches and heals many people. In Love’s embrace one can can vulnerable. Love is gorgeous. Love is beautifully intimate. Love is sought by those who betrayed the attributes of it in their last moments. Love is a child that causes exceedingly great pain to his mother in labor but after, she cries joyous tears as he is in the embrace of his protector with whom he will share a bond forever. Love is an emotional cord braided with another that could never be severed. Love is sincere and passionate in its endeavors. Love, are the words left with me by my mother before I lost her.
Tag: Love
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They use the word LOVE so loosely, corrupting the meaning and tarnishing the radiance of its beauty. I despise their blasphemy, for they have never loved and will never. Their hearts are dark, manipulating emotions for power, sex and money. They are void of morality, cold, without empathy. They whisper lies that sound so sweet — their victims fall into a vicious trap of deceit. Oh, Lord, please help them see it. Heaven, before they are totally broken and the tears run, please help them see it. They prey on the vulnerable, the already victimized, and the heartbroken then intentionally hurt them again. They use the word LOVE as a potent weapon leaving lives in ruin and utter devastation. They will seek LOVE when destruction is upon them, but they will not find it. They will ask for mercy in their final hour of death, but there will be no absolution for their transgressions. In their elder years they will suffer, gaunt with the darkness that condemns them. Blindness will strike them, yet they will clearly see the faces and names of their endless victims. They will reach for the comfort of angels wings, but there will be nothing. Despair will overtake them, and for LOVE they will give every and anything, falling on their knees and praying, saying: Please love me, Please love me, Please love me, incessantly, over and over again in breathless whispering.
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I will kiss you in your sleeping. I will comfort you in your weeping. I will hold you in your dreaming. I will whisper the secrets of my soul to you in my speaking. I will always love you, not for your beauty or for sentiments of duty; I love you for just being. We embark on a new beginning — a beautiful union without ending. Now, with love in our eyes, let us consecrate the vows of our hearts at our wedding before mortal witnesses and the immortal in heaven.
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Embers from the passionate fire that rages in my heart, go forth, resurrecting love dead and long-forgotten in the depths of the desolate dark.
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She is a mystery cloaked in elegance and beauty — the presence of her is womanly; be loving and patient in your discovery, and in time, you will find her, a flower that caressing winds carried over raging fires and vastly deep waters, finally setting her down delicately in a hidden place of safety that could only be found by the truly worthy who sincerely love her deeply — protecting her heart forever.
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I cry, not because of regret or the woman that left, but I shed tears for love itself, for it never had a chance to grow because the soil of its young roots became infertile — dying in its infancy, it withered slowly and painfully, and though I nurtured love as a mother cradling her newborn baby, I could not save it — so I gave love one last kiss in its place of final rest and wept over my loss for weeks until the tears could flow no more from listlessness, insensibility and lack of sleep.
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The darkness offers an indescribable solace. The smoothness of her skin is the epitome of the magnificence of a woman’s softness. Soft light gently illuminates the feminine beauty and sensuousness that so many envy. They lust after her curvature but foolishly step over her true power as a natural nurturer; they could never be profound and loving enough to dig deeper to find the diamonds hidden within her. Indeed, she is a beautiful wonder yet to be discovered. She is alone with her thoughts. The contemplation of her is like a revered book constantly read, re-read and referenced by the most distinguished scholars. To kiss her is heavenly — to possess her heart is to have a gift desired ineffably . To know even just a small portion of her secrets is to know her intimately. To know the loving thoughts expressed in her eyes; to truly resonate with the pain in her cries, is to know pure love eternally.
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Your time of sorrow and weeping is but for a season, for the stars affectionately shine upon you because your heart is beautiful — and since your inception, you have unknowingly lived and breathed in the company of angels.
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Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. —John 12:3 (KJV)
And behold a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,
And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. —Luke 7: 37- 38 (KJV)
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Oh, beautiful Angel, see the state of my longing soul and the immensity of my sorrow — release me from the desolation of today and the despair of tomorrow. Descend upon me lovingly so the shelter and comfort of your wings I can borrow. Let me abide with you and sleep peacefully as you watch over me. Sing to me sweet songs that only the heavens know. Whisper words that are beautiful and celestial. Extract the many teardrops of my pain and turn them into calming midnight rain. Embrace me as a mother with a newborn child bonding lovingly after the pain. Let me be reborn in your light at night, and in the morning, kiss me in my slumber before you take flight. Touch my eyes, and illuminate my sight. Allow my head to rest in the valley of your breasts; the magnificence of your immortal heartbeat being the source of my warmth and my rest. Leave with me many strands of your hair so with a piece of heaven, I can dry my often falling tears when I am in distress; I will reach for you, Angel, and the healing balm of your caress.
Intimate Compositions 