My name is Ethan Holmes and I confess I am a die hard romantic. What’s really strange about that is the fact I have no one to put that attribute to use on. No wife, no girlfriend, no dates, no nada. That said, being an author/writer, none of that stops me from writing poetry among other things. Further, it’s my belief that when one writes a romantic poem, it does no one any good if it simply remains in a shoe box tucked away in a deep, dark closet. So I present the following for your reading pleasure.
Please Don’t Go Just Yet
By Ethan Holmes
It was the first time, the very first time he could look deep into her eyes,
Touch her silken hand, hear the voice reaching inside to touch his soul.
The hours seemed to float by unnoticed by both, dusk melting to the midnight hour,
Bits of conversation interlocked in commonality, marked by laughter, shared with joy,
‘Til at last, the waitress reluctantly approached, check in hand, hesitant and knowing,
“So sorry to do this but we are closing,” she blushed furiously as she softly set the check down,
“That’s all right,” the man, flush with the exquisite warmth of the moment, rose.
The woman rose with him, walking out in to an unnoticed winter fog,
Stopping, he stared at the car door handle, wishing intently not to touch it.
“Please don’t go just yet.” The woman rose on her toes as high as she could reach,
Brushing velvet lips to his cheek, warm breath to his skin.
“I have to go on a business trip,” he prodded his breakfast forlornly.
She slid her hands down his shoulders and whispered in his ear.
“You’ll be back before you can miss me.”
“I miss you now with the thought of it.”
He rose and took her in his arms and danced slowly around the room to a music unheard but by the two.
She lay her head on his chest, barely heard,
“Please don’t go just yet.”
“Funny how things go around, the universe seems a circle.”
She smiled the way she did when she first captured his beating heart.
It was the same place, the same table, the same time of day with years in between.
The aging of things remains undetected when obscured by love.
Only the waitress was long gone, only the passion and love remained strong.
As the dinner crowd shuffled in she took his hand and moved to the door.
“Please don’t go just yet.”
He took her in his arms, there in front of all, kissed her as though it were the last.
She lay on the bed, at last showing the many years passed between them.
His hand clasped hers, wishing a way to pass what life left in him to her.
Her fingers tightened around his for a moment as she whispered his name,
Smiling that smile still able to lay soft snow over all life’s trouble,
Breathing one last sigh carrying her spirit away from his grasp.
The old man leaned over, ever so tenderly brushing his lips to hers,
A tear glistening on one cheek, wanting to let go and fall to her,
Asking for one last thing that could not be,
“Please don’t go just yet.”
Ethan Holmes is the author of seven books. Visit the author’s website HERE.
Get your free Ebook copy of Shorts and Other Laundry by Ethan Holmes.
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