Longing, Love, Words

Fool

The prospect of love reduces me into a manic fool. But how can I not be one, when it is the greatest desire, the biggest longing of my godforsaken heart.

How desperate my clutch becomes, how embarrassing.

But love is my desire, my greatest longing and I can’t help but to become a fool for it.

– written months ago, when I first met him.

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Love, restoration

For the first time, what’s past is past. 

Things that used to matter so much fade away as I settle into newness of life. Into the arms of you, my newfound love. 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire

Doubt that the sun doth move

Doubt truth be a liar 

But never doubt I love” 

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Love, Musings, Poetry

Wishful Thinking

Coffee, hope, poetry. I don’t know if I’d read it somewhere, but these three words keep ringing wistfully in my head lately. Perhaps it is because they are representative of the things that tug at my heart the most in this life. Oh would we all be so lucky to have our days filled with drawn out coffee conversations, quiet hope and beautiful poetry that makes sense of it all. What else could one ask for. Perhaps it is the simplest things that mean the most after all. 

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