This poem is a sestina, written as a love letter.

My dearest, let us drive into the sun
Through doors of possibilities and dreams,
Leaving behind who we were, for a time,
Finding an alternate reality
Of blushing bliss, when fingertips are kissed
And sweet joys in simple intimacies.

Let us celebrate those intimacies!
Forget the shadows! Let’s walk in the sun,
Tasting its heat on our lips, softly kissed,
Not with fickle passion but lucid dreams!
Let’s make holding hands our reality,
Letting our heartbeats set the course of time!

And we will make a conspirator of time,
You and I, weaving tender intimacies
Into a warm, gingham reality
Of cool, moonlit nights and days in the sun,
A blend of soft and bold, the fabric of dreams,
Delicate as the sigh, from lips just kissed.

Do you remember the first time we kissed?
I remember it vividly, though time
Has passed; it still lives within my dreams
Writing with the ink of intimacies
Upon vellum pages, spun with the sun,
In the journal of love’s reality.

Some say love does not fit in reality…
But what could be more real than to be kissed,
That sudden, warming caress, like the sun
Breaking though winter clouds in morning time?
What is more real than simple intimacies
Such as lying side by side, sharing dreams?

Are we to believe that there is no place for dreams,
When without them, there would be no reality
Only existence, devoid of intimacies?
Not this man! I would much rather be kissed
And rest within your embrace, spending time
Contemplating your hair’s color in the sun!

Tell me your dreams my love, softly kissed
By this reality…this is our time,
Our intimacies, our day in the sun!

© ewrichardson 2008