Affirmative Puzzlement

Strobing along into a deep thought. A time when delirium would indeed take hold. Eyes droop low, yet a heart and mind beat wildly at the thought of the day, moment, word. Smelling a new scent and thinking about the accomplishment of ownership. A beautiful thought of time worked by toil, in turn for a thing of beauty. Not necessarily one to show and glisten with corrupting endearment that leads to jealously. Oh the power of a timed item filled with memory, turn to a phenomenon of even a new item to give line of conciseness to a memory.

It was this that made me think of you.

Woe unto the weekend that is known to society as being blissful and relaxing, whilst the one who toil away day by day find the relaxing time, often the worst of times. Left handed, yes? Left foot to turn at its worst. A pit of pain be to me. Walking at a prime time then waddling like a child the next. This be the end of me. Is this what it is like to age? Have I missed a piece of feeling that makes a match not so to the ones of higher years? Liberty. One that is young possesses.

Liberty be lost to the ones who age. Mindset.

Now to sit blatantly as time ticks on. Not afraid to write on the bright screen. Open enough for a view, but not private enough for a journal entry. Clicking away for a moment of reality. A brain full of so much knowledge and nobleness, but not enough to prove to a paper the numbers are correct. Puzzlement at every corner. To what do we owe our hearts to? Are you really holding close and dear to a person who burns a warm flame for you. Are you scared to see them vanish away. If you don't know what happened to Delilah, did you really love her? Did you think of her as often as she did you? Who has written about a character who has it "all right" yet, fights for what seems impossible, a noble character. None of which I can recall? Is it these that have not been put to words because they are living. Dear Delilah. Don't put your efforts to shame. Leave it to a weak body to wander life on the lips of others who are lost too. Wasted bliss

When it be looked upon with craving eyes, lots to be said, yet silence is struck. Then gone home to curl up upon the couch to love in my mind. Thankful for company. Saddened upon life. Cuddle up close to you dear.

Who is it you really love?