you lie like a stain

on my face of

marbled feelings

I try to remain cold

untouched by

your passionate framing

unsure in my own self doubt

whether I am worthy of

any portraiture.


you slip like a dream

from my frigid bed and if you were

a woman you’d be a woman of the world

Indian, Malaysian, perhaps from Istanbul

you’d wear bells on your ankles

and have hennaed big toes

and elderberry lips

and your smile would hurt

like a thousand breaking stars.


you rest as a friend

on my empty shoulders

when I feel I cannot bear

another load, one more day, a single minute


in this empty carriage journey

through furnace and fury

you comfort me with the leniency

of your gift, like a child who

seeing someone crying

will reach instinctively

and wipe tears away

with the goodness of their

pure reflex.


you are crystal set against fading sunlight

on a day of horrors

you light our fire place

and cook a warm meal

you run a bath and dim the hour

until all we see is shadows

they drift without pressure

on warm current

until they become absorbed

in our evolving sleep.


you rescue me from the edge

in a dream, you cross reality

and waking, I know it is you I have

touched and though we never have

the mercy of that tender hour

waits on me all day

like a balm, soothing the

years of being told

it is unnatural to feel as I do.


you take few faces, you are once in a life time

but in each woman, I glimpse

a little of you

like a pinch of saffron

will go a long way

and a gold hem can

light up a grey dress

like an empty garden will seem

full when you visit and rain clouds

are welcome where we live

all year round.

For love

you are upside down and inside out

and love

dear, soft edged, warm necked

crossed limbed, laughing throated

cascading haired, chocolate eyed love,

you save me

every single time.

0 Replies to “For love”

  1. To love
    To feel-know that flow
    Sprung of its own will
    From heart
    From soul
    For life long
    Or briefest moment
    Whether spoken or un
    Requited or not
    It cares not
    It flows outward
    Nourishes and warms
    As it moves through us
    When we get out of its way

      1. Ever so welcome — This one spoke to a realization or conclusion i reached long ago; Those who are concerned with being loved inevitably suffer from worry that they will lose the love they think they have, or that it is not real or durable. Those who focus on loving have that always with them and no one can take it away, and it feels right.

  2. Beautiful words Candice
    you rescue me from the edge
    in a dream, you cross reality
    and waking, I know it is you I have”

    Here’s some words I wrote …
    Where Is Love?

    Behind every word
    There is a thought
    Between every thought
    There is an emotion
    Underneath the emotion
    There is a heartbeat
    Below the heartbeat
    There is a soul
    Within the soul
    There lives love

      1. Of course: I LOVE your work, Candice❀️!
        I’m sorry not to say it more often.

        Because you are so popular, what regularly happens is,
        by the time I read your posts, other people have already said those things which spring to my mind (often expressing them far better than I could).
        Then, ashamed at my unoriginality, I end up just leaving a like.

        1. Oh Ken I am not popular, I hardly go on WP anymore, I did used to spend a lot of time on it, and I had a lot of friends but nowadays I work too much to spend the time I would like to. I wish I could. I so appreciate you taking the time to write this and read my work. It means a great deal to me my friend.

  3. Oh, this poem is balm after a hard week. I’m happiest when I can write love all day long. Might spend my whole weekend like that, come to think of it. πŸ₯°

    1. I am not writing much. I was working 50 hr weeks (which for me, slothful European is too much) and with my health issues, well you know how that goes. I am trying to work less. It is hard as I sometimes have no choice but I can’t really handle the pace with my health as well. Maybe I would write more if I had more time. I don’t have much faith in my writing so I really, really appreciate your words

      1. You know I relate to this 100%. Sometimes we have no choice but to push ourselves, but then we risk complete breakdown and being of no use to anyone… it’s a tricky proposition. I wish you the best possible balance and will write soon!

  4. You use the same words as I do, but I do not have your gift of arrangement, or an ability to charm the reader which is uniquely yours, or magic so heady that I cannot conceive of it.

    When I am reading your poems, I am transported from this sick and callous world. I dread the close of your poems, because try as I might to stay, I always come back here.

    Do me one last favor?
    Write a poem on a moebius strip for me, so it will have no end.
    I can read it forever, contented, transported,
    and finally be gone.

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