Timing
Your last lover entered the room
Silk shirt and a Stetson hat
Tight jeans, ready to act
Heads turned eyes did moon
Dear lady-friend of mine
This would be a perfect time
To send me a sign
And place your tender hand in mine.
================================
Not Forgotten
Her love was simple
Like footsteps of a breeze.
My love was contraband
Like ragweed in the sand.
On a plain in my heart
The Lord of not to be— battled
The squire— of could have been.
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Author:
Jerry Reynolds (
Offline) - Published: March 29th, 2026 06:38
- Category: Love
- Views: 38
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Teddy.15, Vanna
Offline)
Comments7
Two Jerry and it is the second that I identify with more. A great write of what might of been but was not destined to be. Dreams do not always meet reality.
Thanks, sorenbarrett. For the read and comment.
You are most welcome Jerry
Sometimes losers can be winners? I hope.
Thanks, 2718. For the read.
Jerry, there’s a strong contrast here that really lands. The first piece moves with confidence and presence, while the second settles into something more reflective and unresolved. Together, they carry both motion and memory. Beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks for the read, Tristan. And the analysis.
Wonderful poetry and imagery. 🌹
Thanks, Teddy, for the read.
I felt number one (Timing). Perfect.
Thanks, Dave, for the read. Yeah, we have all kinda been there.
That love will never fail Jerry.
Andy
Thanks for the read, Andy.
beautifully described...
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