An Old Easy Chair

“What do you want to do tonight?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, “what do you want to do?”



sit with me Love

and lay your head upon my shoulder

Your hair spilling into silk soft pools imbued with the scent of heaven

And read passages of a favorite old book long from view

of poetry

Or some verses that you’ve written

But are so seldom now sharing

Not often

For what we do often becomes common

And I should rather look back and treasure these touchstones of you

For not all life is wild passion on the bed

Though these are sweet memories too

But tonight come sit with me,

Just for me



For the space of the evening leave off the tv 

and turn the music low.

For I need no distractions from you

as I idly trace the beauty of your face with my fingers

Or run them through the cascade of  your hair.


The comfortable I’ve come to know,

that I might softly fall in love with you,


with stray kisses

that sometimes linger as fair words put to thought might move.

Snuggle in and share the soft and warm of you

Your voice the sound of pouring wine

of which the sonnets but sweeten 

for words transcend time and we are in a timeless place


And I would recite cummings

as if from Cyrano to you


(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)*

And if my heart be true,

banish time and fade the view

away to the deeper things I feel for you

The warm soft press of you


and the book set down to draw you closer

for the moments linger sweeter now in the untold hour.

Tender moments these adrift in the poets depths

following the arc of words sublime,

does not spirit rise in ascent

to sunder mundane and surly thought of the working day,

and day to day,

the common place of everything

for these briefest moments shared

of something more

and taste the language of the bards.

My lips to yours

to stray a kiss where words their thoughts conceived

may lead.

Just come sit quietly with me.

I do not ask for more,



*somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

LE. E. Cummings – 1894-1962

6 thoughts on “An Old Easy Chair”

  1. Your words always bring so much passion, I can feel it in each verse. There is something truly beautiful about two souls sitting in silence together, with soft touches, not having to say anything. The comfortability of just being.
    This is my favourite of yours by far x

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