All poetry copyright the writer G. Daniel Thomson, 2001. All rights of reproduction reserved by the writer.
Contact Dan Thomson at email@example.com.
TO A GREAT LADY, AS YET UNKNOWN
The others got their poems, now you want yours,
And so you set me to this chore.
For you, no lines rehearsed,
But your own special verse,
Your own love token,
Not words already spoken.
Will this be a great love potion
Or just another mistaken notion?
Twain said, "Never part with your illusions,
For you'll still be alive, but cease to live."
I cling to this one last delusion,
That one will hold this poet fast and past forgive.
Be this poem and the poem's yours,
This poet as well and verses more.
Make it last; be the last.
UP TO US
You say, "A good man is hard to find."
I say, "A good woman is harder still."
It's up to us to be that kind
And for each other our dreams fulfill.
What could be the reason
For our lonely lives, so incomplete?
Locked in freedom's prison,
But for the chance that we might meet,
We would never find the key
To unlock our separate cells
And form a bond to set us free
From our separate selves.
When you're with me and I'm with you
There will be one where there were two.
If this night be but an interlude,
With no promise of the 'morrow,
Then let me savor this magic mood
And for its passing spare no sorrow.
No sorrow for this moment
Crystallized in memory's eye.
I will revel in your scent,
Breathe deep your fragrance for a mystic high.
From dusk 'til dawn's cruel light,
I will hold you in my arms
Against the cold of night,
And feel your gentle charms.
Time is a theif.
All life's pleasures are too brief.
[The only of these poems written after meeting my wife.]
My Lady paints a picture,
A picture of children at play.
A picture full of charm and grace.
My Lady paints a picture of her soul.
My Lady paints a picture of you and me.
Paint us in a forest,
With sunlight filtered thru the leaves.
Make the light dance on you and me.