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ALL WORK IS COPYRIGHT PROTECTED


MY BELOVED © 2002, Wanda L. Harrell


My beloved, my cherished one, you shall forever and always be...
A never-ending love song, forever playing in my mind,
A dazzling star, boldly glittering in the midnight sky,
Golden sunshine, lighting every dark corner of my soul
And scarlet ribbons, myriad heartstrings that bind.



You are reassuring moonlight, illuminating the foreboding night,
A garden, entirely of lavender roses, exquisite and rare,
A gentle wind, perpetually stirring my feminine desires
And an eagle, soaring through the heavens in magnificent flight.



You are vintage wine, intoxicating me with passionate delight,
A mighty oak, magnificent in being, standing strong and tall,
A mountain stream, coursing with intensity and resolve
And a blazing fire on a bleak winter day, exuding warmth and light.



You are passion personified, the epitome of sensual pleasure,
Excitement, every holiday on the calendar combined into one,
Constant inspiration, stimulating my feelings and thoughts,
And gold, silver, diamonds, pearls, all manner of grand treasure.



You are vibrantly colored flowers, gathered into a fragrant bouquet,
Succulent raindrops, nourishing the thirsty desert of my mind,
But most important of all, you shall always be the greatest love of my life,
And appreciated much more than my words can possibly convey.




3401 © 2001, Wanda L. Harrell

A nervous smile of anticipation was on my face
But you were not there to see it the hour I arrived.
So slowly, I opened the door to find
Not you, my love, but our room.
All scattered over the floor and across our bed
Was your loving greeting, countless rose petals, of the red, red kind.




Deep from within my very soul came the expressions on my face
And you were there to see them for every hour and day we shared.
So slowly, I opened the door to my soul, my heart, my body and mind
Just for you, my love...so that in our room
All scattered about were the essences of our blending and oneness
Becoming more treasured than rose petals, even those of the red, red kind.




Salty, were the shimmering tears streaming down my face
But you were not there to see them on the hour that I departed.
So slowly, I closed the door behind
Not on you, my love, but our room
All scattered with precious memories of where we'd laughed, loved and resided
And my loving farewell on your pillow, a single rose petal of the red, red kind.


HOW DO I LOVE THEE?  © 2001, Wanda L. Harrell 

* The inspiration, title and two lines in this piece of poetic prose are gratefully borrowed from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poem, HOW DO I LOVE THEE


"How do I love thee?" I cannot count the ways. My love for thee exceeds the depth, breadth and height I believed my soul, or any soul, could reach.  My love for thee soars through the universe, refusing to be contained or held back in any manner.  This mighty love surpasses my everyday needs during the day in sun's light and my wildest dreams by candle's flame at night.  My heart beats now with the faith and dreams of youth, unfettered by mortal restraints.  With every thought, every smile, every word, every touch, every hope and every dream, I love thee more, "and if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death."


I WANT TO...  © 2000, Wanda L. Harrell

I want to...
Trace the outline of your face with my finger,
Have your tender lips upon my lips linger,
Feel your heart beating for me within your chest
And upon your shoulder, have my head rest.


I want to...
Hear, from the next room, your voice calling my name,
Know that many of the thoughts we have are the same,
Slow-dance, barefoot, with you on the cool kitchen floor
And know the heat of passion with you behind a closed door.


I want to...
Whisper your name and words of love into your eager ears,
Have your gentle, caring mouth kiss away my tears,
Savor each one of your sensual kisses, sweeter than wine,
And always walk beside you with your hand holding mine.


I want to...
Tenderly look in the intimate color of your sparkling eyes,
Hear the gentle, but thrilling sound of your loving sighs,
Find safety and solace in your unwavering embrace
And see your love clearly written on your precious face.


I want to...
Go to sleep with your arms wrapped around me tight,
Know you are right there beside me throughout the night,
Affectionately kiss you atop your adored and precious head
And assure you that your are my one and only, my dearly beloved.


I want to...
One day have you place upon my left hand a band of purest gold,
Know that symbol of love will be there when we have grown old,
Have always, upon my neck, the sweet warmth of your breath
And promise to cherish only you from this moment until my death.



MIRACLE OF LOVE  © 2000, Wanda L. Harrell

She is in love, so...
Rainbows arc across the midnight sky,
Coarse threads form sheets of smooth satin,
Warming rays from the sun shine down from the moon,
Still and frozen rivers burn with furious fever,
Stars sparkle amidst the daytime clouds
And perfect silence sings a tune.

He is in love, so...
Deserts boast ribbons of rivers across their sands,
Bold bolts of lightening gently kiss the earth,
Mountains bow to greet the valleys low,
Fallen Autumn leaves find their way back to the tree,
Orange tongues of fire lick to cool the heated brow
And red roses bloom in the Winter snow.

They are in love, so...
Frowns of sadness curve upward into smiles of joy,
Solitary secrets and fears become thoughts shared,
Moans of grief transform into loving sighs,
Old and shattered dreams return anew and flawless,
Cold darkness ignites into white-hot passion
And once solo voices unite to harmonize.

Miracle of love,
Two single hearts incredibly blend to become one.



PASSION © 2001, Wanda L. Harrell

The passion within me is invisible to the eye,
yet it clearly exists.


My passion emits heat and warmth,
yet there is no flame that burns.


My passion is lofty and weightless,
yet is great with substance.


My passion is without shape or form,
yet sturdy is its soulful foundation.


My passion is more priceless than golden treasures,
yet cannot be bought, bartered or sold.


My passion is not tangible and cannot be contained,
yet it lives--it grows--it thrives--it waits
with every beat of my heart and every breath I take
for the man I am destined to love
.


IN AWE © 2003 Wanda L. Harrell 

I marvel at the massive, tangerine orb’s persistent rise,
And birds, in feathery flight, winging across cloud-streaked skies,
But I am equally in awe at the wonder of you.
I marvel how nature’s flora tranquilly grows and blooms without sound,
While mountains tower upward to wear an icy, crystal crown,
But I am equally in awe at the wonder of you.
I marvel as brown barked trees stretch to the blue with hands of green,
And cool respite safely dwells in the emerald valley and deep ravine,
But I am equally in awe at the wonder of you.
I marvel how hungry ocean tides rush to taste the sandy shoreline,
And reassuring rainbows arc across the sky in grand design,
But I am equally in awe at the wonder of you.
I marvel how a day ends enrobed in soft folds of purple at twilight,
And silvery moonbeams strain to illuminate the ink of night,
But I am equally in awe at the wonder of you.








 
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