of

The power of your words can mezmerize and heal the hurts,
your eyes are beautiful, they've looked into my soul.
The wonder of your gaze touches the places I would rather not be writing of,
and afterall this is a poem and way too much to share in whole.

The starting lineup, back when I was young, I think I missed the gun,
but just as well
took off for other places.
I longed for mountains magesty and all those things I hoped to see,
while others stayed and loved familiar faces.

Some married and they bore their young, or college-bound for work and fun or tragedy, and sometimes God just loses me.
The question of my failure to connect with just one sailor, what the heck, but strangely so, quite often still amuses me.

I ponder of a hope that it's still possible, within your scope, I'm grateful for eleventh-hour breakthroughs.
Still don't get what you're telling me, I bungled at the spelling bee, you say the thing I'll get is what I'll choose?

The mind it travels to and fro, the world it feeds the input though, and we must press the whey out from the curds.
And so I speak in vagaries, of things to come which I can't see but speak into reality, if only by my words.

The power of your words can mezmerize and heal the hurt, your eyes are beautiful they've looked into my soul.