I left a Man in the Smokies

Somewhere in the Smoky Mountains 
Is a man I left behind years ago,
Now, with a wife and kids,

I scroll Facebook startled by the luminous Glow
Of his happy family displayed before me,
And I am instantly transported
Ten years into the past,
Wondering what the outcome could have been if I was more emotionally fearless,
And he a little more courageous,
But we were young, barely adults,
Still in our early twenties,
Still sticking to life plans we formed as Children,

No, we had our chance,
And we both played chicken,
Swerving right before the cataclysmic car Crash,

We both blamed timing,
But for me, in the end, it was fear,
I let him go because I was not ready to be a Wife,
To support him in the way a husband Deserved,
And I stopped loving him because he could not Make a choice between me and his current Wife,
And I would never want to question my Partner’s loyalty,

So, I left the mystic Smokies for the brusk Roar of the ocean, and salty sun kissed skin,
And set out on my own adventure,

A thousand miles apart, and ten years have Passed, sitting at my computer desk,
I do not regret letting him go,
Nor do I regret the memory of him,
Nor do I hate his wife and family and their Success,
I just drink my coffee and let the smoky haze Of the past wash over me like a wave,
And listen to the roar of the ocean,
I am grateful for the time we had,
And the lessons I learned,
And the life I have now,
And the life I have yet to lead

~ By Hyacinth Hale

Strawberry Shortcake

The waiter comes to our table with a menu        “Dessert?
We could not possibly!” I say,
My husband looks intently into my eyes and Says, “Yes! We will take a menu”,
Years of saving pennies and fad diets are Behind us now,

We finger the menu together,
Going line by line, ingredient by ingredient,
Sitting closely, hair raised on our arms,
As if we were transported back to the malt Shop where we had our first date,
No strawberry malts listed on the menu,
We settled for strawberry shortcake instead,

The dish came, a slice of cake as big as my Head, strawberries as big as my eyes,
The cake dripping in sauce the color of my Salivating tongue,
A playful dollop of whipped cream begs for my Finger to dive into it,
And a mint leaf spreads it’s foliage over top As garnish,

My husband nudges the plate toward me,
Taking pleasure in watching me eat,
Taking pleasure in me reveling in new Sensations I had never experienced before,
How quickly we have forgotten to take time For simple pleasures,

I plunge the fork into the cake,
Dangling a chunk in front of my husband, Teasing him,
Inviting him to taste what I have,
Pulling him closer and closer to me until,
He succumbs to temptation, kissing the Strawberry I carved out for him,
I wipe the crumbs from the corner of his Mouth,
And he playfully wipes a Dollop of whip cream On my nose,
Then he wipes it away with the same napkin,

My head found rest on his shoulder,
The cake found a new home in a to go Container to be eaten later,
My husband quietly paid the bill,
Holding me tight with one arm and handling Business with another,
We made our exit,
Strawberry short cake in tow,
To be used at our discretion,
Whenever we need a reminder of simple Pleasures

~ By Hyacinth Hale

Patchwork Quilt

Photo by olia danilevich on Pexels.com
I wish I could remember all of you,
But what I am left are just fragments,
Some sweet, some bitter, some angry,
All withstanding the test of time,

If you asked me to describe you
From head to toe, I couldn’t.
I could only describe the furrow
Of your brow when you felt insecure,
Or the intensity of your eyes 
When you desired me,
Or the gape of your smile at its peak
When you help others,
Or the soft strength of your bicep
As it brushed against my cheek
When you tucked me into bed once,
The gentle rise and fall
Of your chest as you sleep,
Unassuming, not a care in the world,

I remember the pattern of your leg hair,
And how I wanted to run my fingers through it
From your calves up to your thighs,
I remember you inside me,
The feeling, the sound,
The weight of your body over mine,
How your body enveloped me,
And safely cuddled me after,

I cannot remember every word you said,
Or full conversations we had,
I just remember singular sentences 
Like “never say never”,
Or the fact that you forced me so hard
To learn your language without first easing me into it,

Sometimes, what I remember most
Is the “uhs” and the “ums”
That you inserted in between sentences,
Unsure of your place in the world
Yet alone our conversation,
I mainly remember, all the words
You never told me like “I love you”,
Even if deep down inside you meant it,
You never told me,

I remember those small moments,
Literally milliseconds, snapshots of who you are
Because I never had all of you, just a piece,
You never let me have all of you,

I still carry the pieces of the men
That they freely gave me,
Like a patchwork quilt
Until a man’s love can cloak my whole heart,
And give me the warmth and safety I deserve

~By Hyacinth Hale

Pillow Fort Fortress

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

Why is love pain?
I cut myself open just to heal you,
But you turn your back,
And say that you don’t need saving,
The tears rolling down your face
Tell a different story,
And so the story goes
Until I trip and stumble,

You try to pick me up, and
I’m too hard headed and hurt
To let you, my pride my down fall,
So pots and pans,
And plates and glasses,
And words are tossed; until,
Arms and legs and lip
Are entangled in the sheets
I bought and you hate,

Under the sheets,
Our pillow fort fortress,
Our entangled peace treaty,
Where friendly fire is encouraged,
Where the world melts away in your arms,
And the problems of yesterday
Are tomorrow’s problem,
All that matters is the smell of your skin,
And the heat in your touch,
And the taste of your lips,
As you recommit your love to me,
And we heal what bonds us together

~By Hyacinth Hale

Your Touch

Photo by Valentin Antonucci on Pexels.com
I crave your touch even when you are not around,

Your strength, your security, your warmth at night,
The teasing tandem of gentle roughness
As you vacillate back and forth, pushing and pulling,
Swaying my body to the primal rhythm of attraction,
Feeling for anything plump and pleasing to hold onto,

When you are away from me,
I want to feel your finger pads
Brush against my skin one more time,
You give me goose pimples on my flesh,
Each touch a delightful surprise,
Each second you stare at me waiting is torturous anticipation
Of the velvety softness that are your lips,
Wondering what body part they will kiss next,

I daydream of your touch in the silliest of places,
At work, as I’m doing dishes, in the grocery line,
Staring out a window, anywhere banal and lonely,
But the thought of your touch excites me, unnerves me,
Makes me flush pink, and curl my toes in my shoes,

I think of how your fingers trace the outline of my face,
And how they stimulate my nipples,
And dig into my waist as you pull me in close,
Thrusting your hips onto mine, thrusting deep inside me, slow and angled,
Letting your fingers take a stroll in my secret garden
As they twirl around with childlike enthusiasm,
Letting the intensity build, until there is no choice, it is too intense,
And you have to come to my rescue,

I want to feel your naked body pressed against mine,
Spooning me, caressing my curves with your muscles,
I want to feel your belly rise, and your belly fall,
To know you are near, to be so intertwined,
To not know where you start and I begin,
To feel something else of yours rise, and for my mouth to fall open,
First, in surprise and then, to move into position,
To show you just how special your touch is to me,

I am lost in your touch, and I am found in your touch,
You will never know what a reassuring squeeze means to me,
To be held in your arms, to nuzzle into your neck,
To know that you will hold me together
When everything else falls apart,
I only hope my touch does the same

~ By Hyacinth Hale