More poetic prose
What If?
Lime’s bitterness and sourness linger when one does and the other does not.
What if one adores the other and one does not?
What if one touched another, but one did not?
What if one held another, one did not?
What if one lies to the other when one does not?
What if one deceives another, and one does not?
What if Ruth the Truth is honest with love, and one does not?
What if love is shared, and others do not?
What if a strange situation did not?
Lime’s bitter taste leaves possessive jealousy and envy’s malice relaxing.
It infringes on the heart, the discerning part, and curtails a powerless victim.
It impedes the mind, the surprising part, and arrests a sweet old soul.
It has a rough exterior and a jagged interior that irritates the skin and offends one’s nose.
Cold
On a cold winter night, Perfect Prince had a vision and caught sight of sparkling eyes. Their greeting was more than a welcome and not goodbye; it was a high.
Throughout their poetic conversation, they bonded with an understanding of cooperation and mutual respect. Both flew away with the cold breeze; they were at ease.
On cold winter nights, they used to hold each other tight. They would shove up on the sofa every night without a fight and snuggle up real tight; it was a delight.
An evening meal was more than ideal. She revealed she cooked a good meal, not veal or jellied eel; they had a deal.
On cold winter nights, she was dressed in a pink kitchen pinny and a tightly fitted mini. He was alert, and she liked to flirt. As he soothed her mind with his words, she stroked his thigh to his delight. Their love reflects a mirror image of her beauty. Their love sparkled like the stars at night that radiated warmth like the sun’s rays when they woke up in daylight.
On cold winter nights, they would wrap up on the sofa in front of the fireplace and say how much they loved one another. Now she feels safe and secure; they’d stroke each other’s upper thighs. They would tenderly kiss each other’s lips.
She would insist that a French kiss is not to be missed. As he held her in his arms, never letting go, he cupped her with his body to caress her soul.
On a cold winter night, he whispers sweet nothings, which are everything in her mind. Demanding faithfulness is offered as a promise, but it returns with a lie. He confessed he tasted sweet chocolate on another’s lips, aroused by her passionate touch that was more than a French kiss. Now, his first love is missed. Spring has come, a new season of fun. Do you want some?
Will this love last long?
This has just begun.
Four seasons reason
Winter blues are the soulful sounds of one’s deep despair and depression.
The cold, freezing weather doesn’t dampen the isolation, solitude, and loneliness.
Spring has come, and the new season has begun.
Brown, woody branches produce budding green leaves, and fluffy white sheep give birth to lambs. It's a seasonal celebration of life.
Summer drifts in festivals begin, fun and laughter, life in the sun.
Autumn starts the seasonal tilt, harvest for the world.
The lush green leaves turn to golden trees, and it’s the end of another year.
‘What has one learnt now that a year has passed?’
The memory of loneliness isn’t blessed, but the warmth of spring brings companionship that enjoys the sun.
One can reminisce on damp, chilly nights and plan for the warm days.
The seasons change, and so does life.
There is always a better day, a brighter tomorrow, because there are more days with fun in the sun than frost-bitten months and the ice chill of winter, being alone.
Weather Permitting
The chill from the freezing wind is the forgotten past.
Pain, sorrow, and loneliness echo memories of pleasure, joy, and companionship.
They tend to linger longer in the cold, bitter air.
In the heat of the night, the high temperature of a hot, deserted desert is the solitude that produces dry eyes and a gasping throat; tears can no longer fall, and the water of love is a rare commodity.
Temper, temper. The tempered temperature is a mixed blessing of warm rainwater quenching one’s thirst for love.
Dry spells pretend it’s a temporary curse from beginning to end, like the rainwater of love-producing green summer fallow fields.
They bear a bountiful abundance of beautiful, luscious fresh fruits.
The future looks bright because there is a balance in life: the good, the bad, and the ugly.
The soft, subtle thought of a sensitive touch warms the heart of loneliness, and like any weather forecast, a little rain can blossom fresh, beautiful flowers, which bring love, joy, and laughter.
Emerging Identity
Honestly, it could be your transformation that I see, a change that is unfamiliar to me.
Then again, is it a different me?
Why do I see a difference in you?
When you see me, could there be a change in you?
What you proclaim, Ruth, is this the truth?
Not knowing and having love is not a change of heart.
The love I had and the love I’ve found is not a change of heart.
The love I’ve found is a heart that does not like the pain.
The pain of finding love is not a change of heart.
Truthfully, does a change of heart mean we start a fight?
Or, changing your mind, do we begin a poetic rhyme and be uplifted by the good times?
Let the good times roll, not turning to hard times and change to bad vibes.
My love is true: a white dove that changes to a red rose for you.
Not knowing and having love is not a change of heart.
The love I had and the love I’ve found is not a change of heart.
The love I’ve found is a heart that does not like the pain.
The pain of finding love is not a change of heart.
Honestly, is the change you want a different me or somebody new?
Does it make you feel blue that my change is due to you?
It could be that you did not see the reality.
Why is the change in me different from the new you?
Not knowing and having love is not a change of heart.
The love I had and the love I’ve found is not a change of heart.
The love I’ve found is a heart that does not like the pain.
The pain of finding love is not a change of heart.
Frankly, what you see in me has changed your point of view.
Or is your viewpoint clear with a change in the atmosphere?
The temperature can rise and fall, changing the conditions of our love.
Having a substitute in the middle of the game changes the course of play.
Not knowing and having love is not a change of heart.
The love I had and the love I’ve found is not a change of heart.
The love I’ve found is a heart that does not like the pain.
The pain of finding love is not a change of heart.
Sincerely, I have good intentions, but things change.
The change is as good as a rest, and we’re not at our best.
Let us see each other less.
The variation might be best if we put it to the test, or a break can be the change; when we make up, we are the best.
Not knowing and having love is not a change of heart.
The love I had and the love I’ve found is not a change of heart.
The love I’ve found is a heart that does not like the pain.
The pain of finding love is not a change of heart.
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