Regards to a memory.

Slow night, coffee nights. Make us remember miracles. We once knew. A rewrite.

 Regards to a memory..

I told her, love is never fair dear Abigail. Need perfect timing, being in the proper place and having the same needs.
 Rarely do two people meet with the same wants.

I told beautiful Abigail. I’m alright tonight. I’m drinking the strong coffee, writing into my journal and thinking of you. Once your words seduced me. Made me desire to frolic and be wild in the wild dance of love. Now I have late night  Bloody Mary and
my pen and paper.

I hold few things dear today.

The charity of the kiss, smitten promises leave me with the resembles of love.  Broken promises of the
temptation of sweet kiss and embraces missed. Leave me wishing for better places and ending.

Wise men don’t confess love when they have nothing left to give.  Acts of love are just forced actions to
pretend you are still alive.

I have reach the point of no return. Just drifting and waiting for a place to know laughter and freedom again.
I have learn. Dead love had no place to grow. Life and death become a dance upon a thin rope.

Regards to you dear Abigail. Please dance and sing in the streets of the ancient cities.

You had showed me the many shades of love and I hope. One day, I may be brave and I will tell you, I want to kiss your tender feet and look in your eyes. Tell you. Thank you beautiful lady.  With love and concern. Johnnie.

                             Coyote/John Castellenas

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

Love is not perfect.... people should strive for the same needs and wants to make it work....I think of you often ,dear Abigail, as I write in my journal....I believe one has to give to be able to love....and you had that with Abigail....now that she is gone, you are sliding into a deeply felt loss....But she showed you love and that memory will last....nice use of words here to show us the meaning of love (as you see it)
Best, B

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Betty. The wealth of us, who love to write. Memories.

[Betty Hermelee]

Ditto! You’re very welcome dear John
Best
B.

[Stuart Munro]

Really nice read , Love ,we talk about it a lot , but do we use it a lot ? Some think it’s just a word
I wonder if a Caveman first thought of it , and wrote it on a Cave wall , in the Stoneage
Maybe it was Shakespeare who invented love ,

[Coyote Poetry]

I believe John Donne make us believe in love. He had 11 children with one woman. He believed Stuart. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Stuart Munro]

Thanks Coyote , John Donne , I wondered who
Have a great weekend

[John the Baptist]

Perhaps we don't really run out of love. If it seems so, maybe it's because we insist on what it must look like.

[Coyote Poetry]

Hard to say how love looked now. Now I have five grandchildren who love their old Grandpa and I do love them. They keep me young. Thank you John for reading and the comment.

[William Michael Reeves]

Memorable phrases in this poem John. So true! If an empty man is man enough to know what he has left, and wise enough to accept and understand that, he does great service to whom he loves when holding the cards close to his chest containing his heart. To not force an action in pretense. Dead love is much too heavy to climb a thin rope wrapping it's vines in suffocating selfish desire trying to grow where no light exists. Powerful stuff Cannis Poeticus!

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you William for reading and the comment. Old age teaches us. Some people cannot be held down.

[~Sarah~ Idríel T..]

I like the name, Abigail. You write with your heart and soul.

[Coyote Poetry]

Me too dear Sarah. Abigail, a old fashion name. Thank you dear Sarah for reading and the comment.

[AYVID N]

"Wise men don’t confess love when they have nothing left to give. Acts of love are just forced actions to
pretend you are still alive."

Truly wisdom-filled words, dear Coyote. Passions wane with time. The affection remains, the fervour goes. One must not pretend to feel or express what they do not feel. Every stage of life has its own joys. Your wishes for Abigail are so warm and heartfelt. She must be so grateful to have you in her life and of course all those, precious,laughing, dancing memories.

Thank you for sharing your amazing words.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Divya. My father and my stepfather abused my mother. It taught me. Never to do. Sometimes bad lessons can teach you to be kind.

[AYVID N]

Indeed, bad experiences teach us to be good and sons who see such things often grow into loving, kind and caring men such as you. Stay you always.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Divya.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Terrific again, John. You tap into emotion so easily it seems and describe it wonderfully.

Winston

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Winston for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[olla]

your work never ceases to touch me in unexpected places.. this is quite lovely.. bittersweet is not quite right.. winsome reverie perhaps..

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Olla. I appreciate your comment.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we want to say what we have not...sometimes love is all we have...why can we not express it?
this moved me....your writes just do that.
j.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Jacob. A old poem and a old memory.

[Dave Brown]

One of your best observations yet "Life and death becomes a dance on a thin rope"
how very true and something I have never considered.