the maker of jams

• 
  

• 
  

  what is love and how and why

  it is a question crying for an answer

  an answer waiting

  always waiting for the one

  to ask the question

  love is warmth and security

  and yet also

  pain and the icy cut of future disaster

  the fear which runs in the blood

  the torment of imagined future loss

  and yet we seek

  and long for the one

  who will take our breath away

  the one who will make us whole

  and therefore vulnerable

  in our need

  
  

  I am hers

  I doubt that she imagined me

  in her dreams of the future

  perhaps not quite the one she would have chosen

  we do not choose

  we tumble heart first into the chasm

  some reckless hellbound and determined

  following the ancient instinct

  knowing

  that love is worth the pain price

  we will someday be asked to pay

  while others tread more softly

  advance more slowly

  wary of opening their heart

  to the possibilities and futures unknown

  and yet love persists

  
  

  and so I am hers

  without question without doubt

  she is not who I would have expected

  to take my heart and make me hers

  but the fates decreed

  and so it is

  in some ways we are the same

  and yet at times

  as different as night from day

  for I exist in a world of impulse and impatience

  enchanted with the written word

  and the intricacies the intimacy of romance

  a dreamer howling wolf like at the moon

  for a togetherness seldom possible

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  and she is she mine

  our future set and safe

  my beloved girl so careful with her heart

  did she too tumble into the chasm of love

  does she find her joy in our togetherness

  her heart does it ache

  in our times of absense

  for she is far more sensible than I

  does she consider reality more often

  than she may weave dreams

  my maker of art through the camera lense

  who will wait with patience for perfection

  my baker of tarts and maker of jams

  my beloved french woman

  
  

  my last love

  
  

  Copyright © Eryll Oellermann August 2021