Waiting for the Echo (to Chris)
You captured my heart the first night
my little brother brought you home.
Your laid back smile, quiet grace
easy style and beautiful face
ensnared my eyes, tangled my tongue,
set free my soul while shackling it.
Then I found a photograph of you
from that weekend and took it for mine.
The icon of a greek god,
not of herculean arrogance nor stature
rather of easy self confidence having
a noble collection of lost summers.
I fell in love with you
first up close &endash; now long distance
The many nights I look at your image
graven on my mind
yet always fresher on paper.
I send my love to you
though you may never receive it.
And looking at you I wait
for the echo of love.
I look at your picture
in my Scheherazade nights
you with your blazing hair
and shining face out smiling
ten thousand suns;
the souls of joyous children held
captive in your laughing eyes.
Though we are constrained
I must tell you how I feel
but is it love? or is it memory?
of a lust that could have been?
Though I am old enough to know better,
you are young enough to encourage.
I fell in love with your face
I fell in love with you
fist up close, now so far away.
Many nights I look to your image
etched in my mind
and on Kodak® paper.
I still send my love to you
though you may not know it.
And waiting for you
I look at the echo
the echo of love.
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Copyright © 1998 John B Cooke IV
House o' Poetry
Jack'n'Jim World