I'm a writer, a poet, a dreamer. Born and raised in New York City. I now live in Daytona Beach, Florida with my wonderful cat Sid.
Your love is like the ocean,
that swells with waves -
crashing against the shore.
When your love is strong,
it always seems so wrong,
like a receding tide,
no words of love at all,
when it seems you don’t care,
but to ask I don’t dare.
Your love is like a river,
that flows freely,
comes and goes of its own accord,
occasionally hitting the rapids,
bringing flowers and gifts,
when it pleases you
and leaving me in anger -
just when my love overflows the banks.
Your love is as colorful,
as flowers in the spring,
when you call to me
and know I’ll come running.
As full of stories,
as the best of lies tell,
I will never guess,
if your love is real -
for in your eyes there is no truth.
Your love is like the black of night,
that brings my worst nightmares,
your heart as cold as ice,
no smile to light the way,
yet, you still say,
you love me and always will,
wondering how soon till the morning comes -
when without a word you leave me.
Your love is as deep as the sea,
full of life,
bringing me so many mysteries,
you love me and then you don’t,
wondering if what I see,
is you loving me
or someone playing a game -
you never seem to be the same.
© 2017 Gypsy Rose Lee
Gypsy Rose Lee (author) from Daytona Beach, Florida on October 31, 2017:
Thank you Tamara. Glad you liked the photo of the black rose I thought it would fit well here.
BBYCGN from Uninhabited Regions on October 30, 2017:
I loved this poem! I can relate. This is such a fine and elegant piece of expression that you have here. BTW, the Black Rose is perfect!
Gypsy Rose Lee (author) from Daytona Beach, Florida on October 08, 2017:
Thank you Israel.
Israel Mercado on October 07, 2017:
Oh the feels. Great piece!
Gypsy Rose Lee (author) from Daytona Beach, Florida on October 05, 2017:
Well there you have it FlourishAnyway let him build you something that clearly defines his love for you. Blessings to you both.
FlourishAnyway from USA on October 04, 2017:
I’m married to an engineer so we joke that we have a practical love. He’s reliable, not into drama, and we go together like two kindred molecules. I asked him half-heartedly to write me a poem once and he said he wouldn’t know where to start because although he loves me a lot, poetry was never the plan I signed up for with him. Instead, he said he could build me something nice.