Ramblings from a beating heart on a quiet cold night

I used to write poetry, many, many years ago when I was footloose and fancy free. Long before marriage and a child, long before I had any thoughts of becoming an adult and having to follow adult rules.

My poetry followed no rules, I didn't care if no one liked it, I just wrote from my heart and it felt good to me.

So it's very quiet right now and I've thoughts going round my head...

I'm just going to write from my heart, little bits and bobs that may, or may not, end abrubtly.
Whatever feelings you may get from it, do let me know

A tangled heart beating, pulsing, pounding, pumping. Deep breaths, a rising chest, sweaty hands with nowhere to lay.
Her eyes, search, intent, pools of mystery. Silent anguish, quiet, whisper, locked away forever, no one will know.
But time will change it all, it always does.
Her heart will slow, shallow breaths, sweaty hands turning cold. Yet she will still have the memories, locked away forever, keeping her heart alive.

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Mine eyes have seen beauty. They are deep pools, crystal clear water on a Fall day. Rocks just under the water, beautiful browns, oranges, yellows and greens all flowing into each other. My hands want to caress, my soul wants to reach out, my lips to touch and linger. But the water is too cold, the rocks too slippery. So I must accept this and simply enjoy the beauty from behind mine own eyes.

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