pitter pattter

It's raining...
memories of playing in the park as a kid,
running, jumping in puddles,
or riding my bicycle and splashing about
 in the waterlogged grass.

the smell of the air right before it poured,
and the excitement and anticipation of the first few drops...
the reckless abandon, and carefree spirit,
I've always seemed to be... still am.

I love it when it rains.

post-titled

The moment when you feel like calling her so badly,
just to hear the familiar sound of her voice,
and you can hear her smoke her cigarette,
and picture every step, every detail,
her favorite lamp, the fan humming in the background,
the sound of traffic...
from the moment she takes a puff and how she exhales,
and every mannerism which you find both mildly amusing
and are enamored by.

That moment is now, and it's fleeting, and passing,
and it'll be gone soon,
and I can't do anything... but smile;
That I had precious, previous moments, with her.

Good night.

slumber

and I pray my love
to angels above
as you sleep this
night till dawn's early light,
for peace and smiles,
and warmth for miles,
from me to you and
yours to mine,

I'll sing a song
and before long,
asleep, your head
on my chest...
and if time would stop,
this moment I'll keep.

to hold you
tor a minute more...