Blog Archives

Always and Forever

Beginning Notes:
There are many poems written every day. This particular poem is about many different themes; this particular poem is about pain; sadness; loss; heartbreak; sorrow; the exploration of life; the human spirit; the strength of the human heart. But most of all, this is a poem about love; more importantly; falling in, being in and enjoying love. This poem is dedicated to and is about a woman, but not just any woman; this poem is about a woman that no man could ever possibly forget. Not always will this poem make sense, and at times it may even be contradictory, repetitious and obtuse, but always, always, will it be forever true. The human heart is an ocean of many, many different stories, and I would like to share with you, dear reader, one now. I do hope you enjoy this romantic tale as you ride upon the waves of this verse.

The Poem:
I just managed, I believe from a miracle, to successfully take back my health.
I’m so happy, I’m so heartfelt, I’m so hung over – I really just can’t help myself;
I need to confess something that has been weighing on my mind, there’s something I need to tell
someone, and it goes something like this; I could kiss you for hours on end when the rain fell,
I could hug you in the middle of a storm; I could keep you warm in the dark of the night,
I could look upon your beauty for centuries, I could stroke your skin come morning light.
I could take a photo of your flawlessness and hold onto it forever,
I could fight for you and die for you if it meant we could just be together;
I could serenade you with empowered words of love by day and cook you dinner when the moon arises.
I could grace you with everything, and even after a hundred years still astonish you with surprises.
I could board an aeroplane today and be with you tomorrow just to give you a kiss,
and confess, that never have I tasted anything as sweet as your crimson lips, young Miss.

You know that feeling – when you have lost love, and then you find it again in the heart of another oh so rapidly?
That feeling – that intense, obnoxious, amazingly fantastical, intense feeling is what has overpowered me.
I was lying down in the centre of the empty suburban street one night – love had officially hung up on me,
when I suddenly received a call – and upon answering, guess who spoke – a woman of unbelievable beauty!
She was older than I, and with the exception of two amazing times I had never fallen for an older person,
but I tell you, struck down, by lighting I was, for I could not, and still cannot, quit thinking about this beautiful woman.
Maybe I ain’t as strong as I would hope, after all, I ain’t built from metal and other strong stuff.
I try to get close to you, young lady, but every time I do so it ain’t nearly close enough,
for I cannot let you go. I look up at the clear dark night, and I can see the moon,
and I know you can see her too, and I hope the two of us can be together soon
for when either of us look up at the great sky from where we are, whether it be day or night it is always the same. If that’s the case, then we both must be on the planet Earth,
and so it would be just so easy, wouldn’t it, for us to meet somewhere? You can set the location, I really don’t care where; be it Washington, London, Tokyo or Perth.

In the end, unlovable is but one word that can describe a fallen soul,
and it is a word that can describe me for instead of a heart, I’ve a hole,
for pain is the unrelenting punishment that is forced upon me as a result of being alive,
and I have come to realise that sooner or later the pain will win out and I will not survive.
Perhaps that’s for the better. Maybe when I’m dead and gone nobody will grieve, and nobody will cry,
and maybe there will be many a happy person on the planet Earth on the day that I do die.
Perhaps every acquaintance I’ve ever met will feel a sense of joy running up and down their spine
which will alert them to the arguably obvious fact that the death they felt was indeed mine.
In the eyes of some certain people I may be a hideous, unpopular, unlovable creature,
and perhaps if I be honest I may say that I might not be blessed with a single attractive feature,
and like I said before, maybe death be good, for there is honestly without a knowable doubt nothing left,
for my heart is broken and barely operating and I remain barely human and utterly bereft.

As a man myself, I can speak from experience; once you fall out of love, you always set your sights on the one woman you cannot acquire.
In your eyes, I want to be seen as a man with an actual heartbeat and a possibility for romance rather than a feared pariah.
I am not asking you to fall in love with me at first sight, but I am asking for a single chance;
not to experience a fairytale, but to have a stereotypical legitimate romance
which is quintessential to the soul. Human beings in general are social creatures, I know this for a fact,
which is why, even after so much pain and bludgeoning, my heart and soul have remained totally intact
as to have a relationship once more. Perhaps this time it will be forever, perhaps this time it will be with you,
and I hope that in the very near and hopefully possible future you might be able to feel the same way too,
for I have been in love before, and I am aware of this just as I am aware of my constant heartbeat,
and whenever I see you I have this powerful feeling which begins in my chest before it consumes me from my head to my feet.
I can understand if this sounds absurd, but I have no intention of ever hiding the truth in regards to love, and my feelings I will not deny,
and to be with you, I will do anything that you ask; I will plead; I will beg; I will write; I will draw; I will with pleasure live; and I will gladly die.

It all began with a blog on the social media platform known only as WordPress.
Never in all my years did I believe the content that I had developed could impress
the eyes of a beautiful woman to come looking over all that I had done,
and in that specific moment my heart, you, young lady, had officially won
and so, in regards to your own meticulous work, I became a loyal, unflinching follower,
one of oh so many it would seem. It was not long after I was transformed into a lover
of your face; of your smooth features; of your sacred flesh. My eyes, they lit up like a great menagerie of fire-
flies transcending across the sky in the darkness of the night as I looked upon the woman I now desire
with an untold passion that burns more brightly than the sun, creeping across the horizon in the wee hours of the morning,
and just like that, my heart cried out for something impossible; it cried out for something more as a new love affair was dawning
upon the path that is my life. I knew then just as I know now that these feelings are never going to leave.
I assure you, you can trust me and my many words; all you need do is look into my eyes and believe.

Love is love I say, and so do many others, and love is but hard to find;
love is the one thing that is always without question on my heart, soul and mind
when I think of you. What name could have hath been given to a woman of such brilliance, a woman who in a million years I could not forget?
What emotions could be conjured by the heart of a romantic? However we are just friends for the moment, I swear, nothing has happened yet.
Love is always and forever the one intended endeavour, it is the only necessary task
to gain, and when someone finally discovers their one and only, people poke them with questions and ask
‘are you having fun yet?’ and the answer always is ‘yeah, yeah’.
People always warn me about love, they say ‘buyer beware’,
but I can take care of myself, really, I can take care of my own,
is it too much to ask for some love, I am tired of being all alone
and I would do absolutely anything to succeed in this fruitful desire
and prove how I’m capable of being your man, of being your merciful messiah.

Cupid visited me in my dreams last night; she didn’t look the way I had thought
she might as she instructed me that there was something that I absolutely ought
to do with my life, which included; settling down, finding a good job and acquiring a partner;
a girlfriend, an individual who was more than excellent to be my one significant other.
When I awoke this morning I could not possibly fathom if the plan had been set in motion,
all I knew was that if my heart was anything it was a terrifically wide, deep blue ocean
that is willing and able to belong to something good, like a passionate relationship, someone new,
like a young woman beyond anything upon this planet we call Earth, and I know that woman is you.
I realise I have not done what was supposed to be initially orchestrated,
for it is something different entirely that I have undoubtedly promulgated,
for Cupid had intended for me to have a grand relationship with an Australian,
and instead I wish to have be romantically involved with a certain Arizonian.

There was a time when angels would walketh the Earth, and still they do as depicted by the image of this gorgeous American
from Phoenix Arizona, who has undeniably captured the loving heart, mind and eyes of this Australian citizen,
for my soul will be but forever forfeit if my soul will be not always yours,
and I would do anything to hold you, to kiss you and to do other things and more,
for the word ‘gorgeous’ is but a word, and it barely scratches the surface of your physicality,
and I don’t think a word hath been invented to articulate what you will forever mean to me.
There was a time once when I was unsure what you were to me, but no longer do I have to make my heart choose,
for I want you in my heart,  there’s nothing left to say, for I could never just have you as a plausible muse.
To hide this huge secret of mine, I could provide to you a suitable pseudonym rather than to call you by your actual name,
for such does not matter to me because regardless of your identity, masquerade or not, I would personally still feel the same.
I am at a crossroads; I hope my words don’t seem too expensive ma’am, and I hope they don’t sound too cheap,
because your intricately stunning and elegant beauty, it runs so intoxicatingly deep.

My heart is a dictionary on everything in regards to passion,
for my heart is as wide and free as the never ending, open ocean,
and I can promise there is nothing I am not aware of, there is not a thing that I do lack,
and all you need to do is say the word and I’ll gladly follow you, my darling, to Hell and back,
cuz you are an exotic paradise I have never had the opportunity to explore,
and the loving dream I had last night of being with you, I long to have right down to the very core
of my beating heart. Within the dream last night, I was lost within one helluva escapade;
I had in the process of seeing you lost both my mind and my head from where they had once laid
atop my neck. Upon waking I was happy; I wanted to return, and I’ll say again, I will follow you to the ends of this Earth,
because of everything that I have ever seen and have experienced, of everything that I am aware of, you are undeniably worth
it. All that is required from you, my dear, is that you call my name, and upon doing so, I’ll gladly be there,
be it any place on the atlas, any time of the year, or absolutely, unequivocally anywhere.

I have known you for only a couple months, but a couple months are all I will ever need
to quench my undeniable thirst for loving romance, to bring a stopper to all my greed
for a heart to be connected romantically only to mine for the rest of time,
and to enjoy the kind of love found in a fairytale or in a nursery rhyme.
I could follow you without question to the ends of this Earth
for your words, like treasure, have an unquantifiable worth,
and your photos that you choose to share and upload to your blog frequently make me smile.
If I had the digits for the All Night Radio Love Line their number I would dial
and I’d ask them to play the song ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden
for you to hear, cuz my beating heart you have without permission taken,
for I was powerless against you with your words of wisdom and your looks of beauty.
Miss; would you ever consider going out on a date with a guy the likes of me?

I listen to the living world around me; to its traffic; to its cities; to its nature; to its ambience,
as I gaze into the affectionately passionate eyes of unequivocal, virginal innocence
that can be described as a sweetness of extraordinary prowess that cannot be tamed,
which belongs to the truest of all true beauties, that cannot ever on paper be named.
If I had a flower for every time I had thought of you, then I do suppose all the flower’s in the world I would need to pluck,
and if you blow a man a kiss from your crimson lips,  I hope only for his sake, he’d better know to immediately duck,
because if your looks can captivate anyone, then imagine what just one kiss could do,
for there is nobody else in this world who I know to be quite as ravishing as you,
for I have seen your life written in photos, drawings and literature within the pages of your great blog,
and it always breaks through the walls around my heart, the brain barriers and the many immense layers of fog
that exists within my mind. Your words are always warm and inviting, and your photo’s are exceptionally great,
and I don’t know if I ever did believe in angels in Heaven, but after looking upon your face, I certainly without a doubt believe in fate.

I have never met you, and I probably never will,
but even with this said, my feelings, they grow stronger still.
I’d ask if we might have dinner, if it wasn’t an issue,
see, the one thing in all the world I want, is spelt ‘y’, ‘o’, ‘u’;
but dinner is not ever going to be option for there’s an ocean in the way,
we won’t be having dinner tomorrow, we won’t be having dinner any other day.
I’ll admit, perhaps I’m totally crazy, I realise that I’m a fool,
for I know I’m probably not that popular and I know I ain’t that cool,
but even with these many words writ and read, I want with you something special; an unbelievably amazing romance
that could sweep you off your feet, and I’d say ‘screw it’ to anything that stood in my way for I’d give everything for a chance
to kiss your oh so unfathomably gorgeous crimson lips on a starry moonlit night;
I know I’m not awesome, but perhaps I can prove that I’m the one; that I’m your Mr. Right.

 ‘Kiss me darling’ I would say to you, ‘touch me’, ‘let me know I’m real;
you are all I truly want, and all that I long to do is feel
your beating heart’, for you are all I ever seem to care
about, and to have you, I call upon the winged prayer
of a Heavenly angel, and I call on Jesus Christ himself
to give unto me the power and to provide to me the wealth
to offer you a marvellous life filled with all you will ever truly need,
and to have you, I’ll face off with the volcano’s edge and I will burn and bleed,
for I must admit, I am through with this façade, this fabrication if you will, and no false truth will ever make do,
than to have the single most gorgeous woman on all the Earth in my arms today, to forever and always have you,
because I do not dare wish to be relegated to a forgotten bitter memory in your eventual past or visualised as just another Facebook friend,
but at the same time I am morbidly terrified that by making any sudden moves, whatever I already have with you may come to an unforeseeable end.

Have I spoken out of just term? Have I been impolite and said too much?
Sometimes I can be like that, being a soporific romantic and such,
but do not ever think my words aren’t real, don’t ever think they are not true;
do not think for but one second that I do not have strong feelings for you.
For I write this piece filled with many rhymes and stanzas for you and only you,
and perhaps I should not confess to this, but I haven’t said all that I want to,
for there’s unfortunately still much weighing upon my heart and still there’s much weighing on my chest;
I must say all that needs to be said, else I promise I will never again be able to rest,
and although there’s but a couple sentences left, due to their content, I wish to say them to you in person.
I wish that the opportunity I seek indeed had the possibility of coming to fruition,
for certain words are better spoken rather than scrawled across the page from several hundred miles away;
and what I wish to express begins and ends with this promise my lady, ‘I will love you every day.’

I feel you are level headed, or is that fear that I be feeling whenever I passionately think of such rare beauty,
who I fear may take one look at the stanzas past and present and may begin to loathe, and perhaps even be frightened of me.
On that note, just remember, I’m a Scorpio, and like any good scorpion I might be aggressive but I will love you forever;
we don’t have to passionately kiss; we don’t have to lovingly hug; we don’t have to romantically touch; we don’t have to be together
because my feelings will never change. I remember everyone I have loved, and I still love them with all my heart and my soul,
and you, young lady, needn’t ever be jealous or scared, because you are the one piece that I require to be heart and whole,
for I really truly love you, more than you could ever fathom, believe or even know;
my only wish is that there was a way to let my uncontrollably strong feelings show.
I do not mean on a piece of paper, or over the internet; I am way past that;
I want to stand beside you and temporarily remove from you your broad brimmed straw hat,
so I could have direct access to your face, and touch your skin with my fingertips,
and just when I believe things couldn’t be any better I’d gently kiss your lips.

If I were to suddenly find myself at the end of my life’s journey on the hour of my death,
the last words I want to say that linger upon my rich, rose coloured lips as I take my last breath
would be your name, before you bestow upon me with your crimson lips an amazing kiss of life,
that immediately removes from me and my existence inevitable impending strife
as to allow me the gift of living just a little longer to look upon your beauty some more.
I can assure you, although I don’t know how, you are the love of my life that I have been searching for,
but for now, I will hide my feelings where they cannot be seen or found, and I will simply pretend,
that I am not infatuated with you, no, I’ll make myself look like another blogger friend
until the day I am given the opportunity to tear down this unshakable masquerade,
and in my heart on this blessed occasion will be held a terrifically romanticised parade
unlike any other, that will put every romanticised event of the heart held before it to immeasurable shame.
I only wish, that if this were a love story, as I wish it were, that at the end, like a fairytale, your gorgeous heart I could claim.

You, my lady, are like gravity; you are like the wind; you are like the air
I breathe. I can never see you, but I know deep down that you are always there,
and if you were to concentrate, you would feel me too; that gentle warmth running across your shoulder –
that is me holding onto you, soothing you, pleasuring you, as the nights grow a little colder, 
for you look upon the same moon as I, and your face is illuminated by the exact same sun,
and just like I know that these words I write are one hundred percent whole and true, I know you are the one
for me. But perhaps you have been hurt, and if such be true, I do apologise, but what you hypothetically had with a last partner was not love,
so I beg of you, blame it only on the man who was a fool to ever harm such fair beauty, but blame it not on the Heavens in the sky above
for the horrific pain that your little heart should not have had, but was forced to endure
every waking minute, for true love is all you’ll ever need-true love’s the only cure
to your pain. Now, I realise I don’t know you as well as I should – in fact I probably don’t know much at all really, but I do know one thing to be true;
young lady, I really, truly, undoubtedly, unfathomably, passionately have the strongest of all strong feelings for your heart, because ma’am, I love you.

I cannot imagine that you were ever born on Earth, so I guess you must be a member of fairer Heaven,
for I am but a shipwreck stranded at sea, and you are my lighthouse guiding me home; my precious blonde haired beacon.
I fear I have been without a certain someone, a certain paramour, for far too long now, and in doing so perhaps my words are sounding desperate,
and this in turn may be why I have decidedly fallen for the woman whose beauty is so astronomical that she deserves the certificate
for been the most beautiful woman in all the known universe, and on the night that you do win, so would be a time for the most expensive wine
to be drunk in cause of this epic celebration, for never was there a woman so elegant, so luscious, so amazing or so divine.
I wish that I, like Peter Pan could fly up towards the Heavens, and that you young lady, could be my Wendy, or perhaps a Tinkerbell,
for never would there be a better story than the one about how I feel for you, never would there be a story I would want to tell
more so than this, for I cannot help but want you, even if I initially only wished to have myself a gorgeous muse,
because out of the three billion something women in all the world around us, you are the one I would always happily choose
to be forever mine. My only wish is that you quit writing; no more journaling; no more poetry; no more prose,
for you writing is so seductive; second thoughts, please keep writing, for I could not live without your words I do suppose.

I wonder if there could ever be a time when you could look back and remember who I was.
Maybe I would have meant something to you deep inside, maybe not too. I only ask because
you’re gorgeous, you really are; never in all my years have I had the pleasure of having a fairer face reflected in  my hazel pupils,
and when I think of you my heart beats faster, I find it hard to breathe, and certain parts of my body become harder, including my nipples.
Moreover I do believe I know the identities of a couple other men who have fallen in love with you;
there is a boy in a hat, a man whose name starts with a ‘D’ and a few others who have remained anonymous too.
Now, hypothetically, if you were to choose to have a romance fuelled relationship with one of us (I know you won’t, but sill, if you were)
please, I implore you to take my advice when I say; choose any man that you wish, for that is your prerogative, just don’t choose this young sir.
I do not say such words with confidence, nor do I say them with ease, but with a heartbreakingly weak sigh,
for I believe these men could offer you more, and maybe have more love in their hearts, and with that thought, goodbye.
If there’s one thing I want you to realise, it’s that I love you, this I need you to know,
because it is said by many a man that when you love someone you have to let them go.

I wonder if the someone I am writing about here is reading these words right now.
My powers of prediction are less than adequate, but I wish this were true somehow.
‘Neither of us have met’ you might state, before asking ‘how can you fall for someone who lives on the other side of the world?’
and I would graciously reply in response ‘you are intelligent, you are so gifted, you are cute and you are a girl;
that’s all I’m looking for, that I’m certain of, that’s what I know,
so, please don’t leave me be, please, young lady, do not let me go.’
I wish there was zero chance of you leaving me behind and quite the opposite of you staying where you are, but I know that’s just reckless, blind, hope,
masquerading as the impeccable ability that which I have ignorantly and egotistically created that can help me cope.
I agree; my feelings may be a lot of things – delusional, deranged, insane perhaps – but they need no explanation,
for in all the world; in all its beauty; in all its contents; in all its uniqueness, you are my wanted destination,
for I feel that I need you the way I need to breathe; the way I need to drink; the way I need to eat and I am certain that all of you reading this can relate when I admit how I have a constant dire need for oxygen,
just as I have a dire need for you. As for your identity, here’s a clue; your name begins with the third letter of the alphabet, or perhaps the tenth; other than that, I ain’t admitting to anything without a reason.

You can’t make someone love you; it’s an unfortunate fact I’ve found, but someone can make you love them with but a twitch of their eye,
or perhaps a smile, a light hearted giggle or an intelligent quote, and then you know without them, your heart and soul will die.
Upon finding you, I will love to run my hand through your exotic hair and stare into your utterly ravishing blue eyes,
that are as clear, flawless and amazing as the Heavens that hang above me, and the never ending cloud free cerulean skies
and even though the truth might always times infinity be that we are a couple hundred thousand miles apart,
the distance, it don’t really matter, for there is nothing ever between us because you are always in my heart.
I’d run a thousand miles just to hear you say my real name, for you know I’m not a ‘Derek’, no, I’m a ‘Nicholas’,
and even though my words may seem oddly strange, I can forever assure you that my feeling’s ain’t ridiculous.
Now, I know I’m not the only man who feels such feelings; there are many men who crave you, and they number in the millions,
and every single one of them is vying for your gorgeous beating heart, your flawless love and your undying affection.
However, I will want them to know, that I am a ravenous wolf, hungry for passionate love, and without you my dear, I will eventually starve,
and I am so greedy and conniving that I do not wish to share you;  I want you alive and whole and I irrefutably refuse to go halves.

Many a man on this Earth will dream of something, and my dream is to be with you. I will be but yours, all you hath do is say the word and you can have your way with me and do with me what you will.
Like a plastic figurine, you can contort my frame into a menagerie of odd shapes; you can twist and turn me in and out, and if it shall be your command you could harm, injure or even kill
me, for as long as I am with you, any moment will be but beautiful, for we both shall be side by side,
and nothing could make me feel more alive; nothing could be more magical; nothing could provide me with such pride
and happiness as I am girt by your love, and you with mine forevermore in a moment truly more marvellous than anything imagined
by anyone with a creative heart, soul and mind, because I do not believe such would  be pure happenstance; I believe we are but destined
to be together. However, proven am I, a romantic already, and I fear my heart be but contaminated with such failed logic,
but even with such written words placed upon this blank page, I know deep within myself that to be with you tonight would absolutely do the trick.
But could you ever truly lower yourself to be with someone of lower standing, aptitude and grace,
who would gladly come after you with all that he has, but if the tables were reversed, you would not give chase,
because you are you and I am me and I tremble with real fear at the general idea that the angel Cupid did not want for me to feel emotions that were ever quite so powerful, quite so delusional, or quite so wild,
but just know – if you ever want to love a man who you can rely upon to never fall out of love with you (unless Tara Mokhtari falls for me which is highly unlikely), just call the name of this lover, just call for Derek Childs.

Ma’am, I am no Roman Payne; I ain’t no Brad Pitt, and I am no Ryan Gosling,
and by the conclusion of this day, I will not be the man you shall be kissing.
Like all the other many men infatuated with you, we be but early foot soldiers in the war for your love,
for never was there a more beautiful woman in all existence than the one who hath fallen from Heaven above.
Like a falling star, you bring about many a positive feeling, a sense of hope and longing and all round good fortune,
and I take my one and only opportune chance to make the wish I dream to be mine beneath the light of the crescent moon,
in the hope that one day perhaps I could be an object of desire, longing and affection in your handsome heart,
and if good luck be bestowed upon me, forever shall a love affair be kindled and never shall we be apart,
because I do  believe that a dream depicting you would be beyond delightful, but a life with you would be oh so much better,
because I cannot imagine anything more fascinating than spending time with the young woman I want to be with forever,
because you truly are, as far as I can honestly tell, without a single flaw you inhuman Godlike seductress. I do not just think such thoughts, I know them for a fact, because you are physically, mentally and spiritually beautiful, and have a beautiful soul and smile as well, and I find myself wondering, would you too be a beautiful kisser?
I would very much appreciate the opportunity to taste the flavour of your kiss and discover the truth of this for myself, but I definitely doubt that anyone as amazing as you could be anything but fabulous in this regard, for there has not ever been a woman who captivated me so the likes of Lady Ginger.

I may have to warn you now before you acquire the wrong impression, I have always been attracted to women who were a little older,
and the intense feelings I have for you dear heart linger on inside me like an immovable object; an incredibly ignoramus boulder,
for you have captured my love heart effortlessly and now with all your talent, you perform like an eccentric ballerina upon its centre stage,
and at day’s end I’m certain of love and I realise I don’t care about the differences, just as I know it would be impolite to ask your age,
just like it would be deviously nefarious of I to ask about your religion; your culture; your background,
besides, none of this affects nor concerns me because true love and beauty I have inevitably, finally found,
but in any case, I do not give a darn about the multitude of differences that separate us so, and all I really care
about is you, always and forever unto the end of time, I will love thee; the woman with the radiance of a solar flare
and I need not stress again how deeply I feel for you, cuz I’ve stressed it numerously over the course of this truthfully honest piece.
I probably have no need articulating your beauty as I already have and my feelings are obviously not going to cease,
and now, I add, this mild mannered man, this dubious author, this aspiring poet, will ask that you please,
consider granting me the chance, and allow me to be your lover, your fighter, your heart’s romantic disease.

I swear to you, I will not ever go quietly into that good night
and I will not ever give up without putting up a tremendous fight
until I have confessed to you all that is weighing so heavily upon my body, heart and mind,
regardless of whether you feel my words are redundant for within them the truth you shall always find.
However, I will admit to you now, I don’t know how to articulate my feelings, I don’t know what to say,
all I know is that you are beautiful; you are incredibly sweet; you are attractive with a capital ‘A’
and a gargantuan explanation point at the end, and I know that what I am feeling is love, I am absolutely sure,
and I am unequivocally certain that in all the world, no one else could ever have such strong feelings or ever love you more,
even though you speak of already being in love. If this be true, then my heart is weighed with much sorrow as I confess that your lover, he is a very lucky guy,
and I hope he realises this, for many a man would agree that it would be so easy to make the decision to do anything, even if that meant to die
to be where he’s standing now – with you; the single most gorgeous woman in all the world, both physically, spiritually and every other way imaginable. I do not say these words lightly; I speak only from the heart and my heart does not dare develop wild illusions nor ever communicate with a forked tongue.
Even if you do not accept me, and I am certain that you won’t and I understand why, I will have you know; a millennia from now someone may read this verse, and in these words they will read of you; your beauty; your intellect; your graciousness; your skills; for in this verse you are, forever and always alive – and young.

End Notes:
The conclusion; the epilogue if you will; the final piece of the puzzle must always be as elegant as the story that came before it as to allow the reader to feel complete. I haven’t the words to succeed in this endeavour, so allow me to simply write; if you have a certain someone that does not know how you feel for them – be sure to tell them you are in love tonight.
Thank you for reading these words dear reader.

Lost in Tranquility

SYNOPSIS: A young man tosses a message in a bottle out to sea which asks the first woman who receives it to be his future wife, in the hopes of finding his certain someone.

 The sun’s reflection burned brightly across the ocean as the waves rippled across the crisp, crystal blue surface. Christopher stood at the tip of the beach where the ocean reached the sand, the water gently nibbling at his feet. He rubbed his hand through his thick, black hair which was stuck to his scalp from all the perspiration that was dripping across his face. His eyes were a dark brown colour, the rays of the sun being reflected in his shining pupils as he crouched down before the sea, a bottle clasped in his hand.
Lindsay slowly came running along the beach, pausing the moment she laid eyes upon him. Her Asiatic face had a yellow tinge to it, her black hair flying out behind her. She was not very tall, her favorite orange Hawaiian shirt hanging from her body as her denim skirt billowed ever so gently in the ocean breeze. ‘Come on Chris!’ she cried. ‘Let’s go back to the party!’
‘You know’ began Christopher in a dry voice. ‘I thought me and Charlotte had a chance, but I was wrong!’
‘Come on Chris’ repeated Lindsay. ‘You’re drunk.’
‘Surprisingly not’ announced Christopher. ‘My head has never been so clear, nor so open. You know what I have here?’ he asked, holding up the bottle.
‘I’m gathering that was filled with alcohol a few seconds before I arrived’ commented Lindsay.
‘No’ smiled Christopher. ‘No, it wasn’t. I have inserted a letter into this bottle, asking the first woman who reads what I have written to be my wife. No pick up lines, no rejections, just a fated exercise.’
‘I think you’d better step away from the shoreline before you hurt yourself’ stated Lindsay as Christopher hurled the bottle out into the ocean which splashed into the crystal depths and began to slowly bob away. Lindsay looked at Christopher in horror as though he had done something terrible as he began to walk past her. ‘It is my life’ he said. ‘And I know in my heart this is the right thing to do.’

FIVE YEARS LATER

‘Why do you still live here?’ asked Jackie with a smile, her wrinkles becoming more visible as the flabby skin on her face was pulled back. She made her way up from the long, wooden table, her great blue dress moving around at her feet as Christopher sniggered to himself. ‘You know you’re the only woman in my life for me grandma.’ She shook her head before entering the kitchen, allowing Christopher the time to sit back and admire the room around him.
The walls and drapes were each a magnificent red in colour, small tables located beside the walls with matching vases placed atop of them. The floor was made from pine wood, the sounds of the ocean being heard beneath it.
Across on the other side of the room was where Asiatic doors opened out onto a pair of twin piers symmetrically placed beside one another which made their way out into the deep, cool water. The breeze that had been carried in on the tide ruffled Christopher’s hair as he made his way to his feet, slowly wandering out onto one of the piers and crouching down to admire the view like he did every morning at ten a.m.
He brushed his hand across the surface of the ocean water, feeling the cold liquid rushing across his hand. The sound of Jackie crying out his name brought him back inside the house as she held the phone out for him. ‘Somebody wants to talk to you’ she smiled warmly.
‘Did this someone give a name?’ questioned Christopher.
‘No’ replied Jackie. ‘She didn’t.’
Christopher took the phone, placing the receiver to his ear. ‘Christopher speaking’ he said, hearing a feminine voice coming from the other end. ‘Yes, I received your letter.’
Christopher screwed up his face, attempting to remember what letter he had recently sent. ‘Sorry’ he blurted out.
‘The message in the bottle’ continued the voice.
Christopher smiled, beginning to snigger to himself. ‘Wow that was so long ago now. I’m surprised it ever made it to anyone. I had completely forgotten about it. I don’t exactly think I was in my right mind when I sent it anyway.’
‘Well’ began the woman, ‘are you still hoping to meet the girl of your dreams, or has that place already been filled?’ The voice appeared to be quite anxious as Christopher shook his head. ‘No, I still am yet to find someone.’
‘That’s great’ cheered the woman. ‘Well, not that you’re out of love, but that I didn’t receive this message for nothing. I have permission to fly over there and can be with you in a couple of days.’
‘Wow’ smiled Christopher. ‘I had never planned for anything like this. Where do you live anyway?’
‘Austin’ replied the woman. ‘Texas.’
‘I could never have imagined my letter could have ever gone that far’ stated Christopher, still bewildered by such an achievement.
‘When we’re about to leave we’ll call ahead to let you know’ stated the woman.
‘We?’ questioned Christopher.
‘Yeah’ replied the woman. ‘My father’s coming too. He goes wherever I go.’
Christopher nodded, about to hang up before asking ‘what is your name?’
‘Summer’ said the woman, the line going dead as Christopher hung up the phone, smiling. ‘Summer’ he said to himself.

TWO DAYS LATER

The crowds of the busy airport terminal flooded past Christopher as he waited close to the front doors of the facility, the late afternoon sun burning brightly in the sky above. He shuffled his feet, feeling nervous with this arranged meeting as those on the plane from Texas began to make their way out, hugging friends and family who they had missed. He held a piece of cardboard in his hands with the name ‘Summer’ written across it in the hopes of gaining the attention of the woman he was to be introduced to. He noticed a young woman and a man point in his direction, beginning to make their way through the crowd and into plain sight, Christopher feeling a little shocked by who approached him.
There was no doubt that the young woman was beautiful. She had a long and slender body, wearing tight blue jeans and a black leather jacket. Her hair was a light brown colour which flew out behind her back, what parts of her face being visible having not a single physical imperfection. The parts of her face which were not visible however were hidden under bandages which were wrapped around her head. Her green eyes shone under the white of these bandages and her lips appeared moist and warm.
Her father stood behind her, a man who was around the same height as his daughter, but nearly twice as wide, a rather large pot belly sticking out from under his shirt. His jeans looked to be on the verge of splitting, whilst his face was covered with a shaggy white beard, his eyes appearing to be quite judgmental.
‘Christopher’ smiled the woman as she took Christopher’s hand. ‘Summer’ he replied.
‘I hope you’re not offended by the way I look right now’ expressed Summer.
‘Oh, no’ said Christopher. ‘I invited you remember. I wouldn’t have done such a thing if I was so full of worry and concern.’ He swallowed before continuing. ‘My car is outside if you’re ready to go’ he said as Summer nodded, Christopher beginning to lead the way out from the terminal.

Christopher stopped his vehicle outside of his grandmother’s house, before escorting both of his guests up the ramp of concrete tiles which led to the front door. The trip back to his place had been filled with plentiful discussion as both Christopher and Summer alike leant about the country the each of them resided within. Summer’s father however reserved the right to take the trip in total silence, every so often giving his daughter a look as though expressing to her mentally not to tell everything to this complete stranger of a man. Christopher had assumed the moment they met that because he had incidentally made contact through the use of an alcoholic bottle, such had not made the best impression on the man who obviously feared the day when the man driving the car might eventually become his son in law.
The tiles on the ground leading up to the house before them were a brilliant red which went well with the overall exterior of the wooden house. The foliage outside of the residence was a brilliant green in colour, with numerous tall trees sprouting forth out from the garden nearest the front window.
Upon reaching the door it instantaneously opened, Lindsay standing before Christopher as the two friends embraced one another. Summer looked at the two of them as though she were trying to decipher what was going on between them as Christopher asked ‘what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you for a couple days and suddenly you arrive, just like that?’
‘Jackie called’ stated Lindsay as they broke apart, ‘and I wanted to have a look at the new young lady who was going to be entering your life.’
Lindsay and Summer introduced each other as the four of them made their way into the interior of the house, Summer slowly taking off her jacket with the help of her father and placing it onto the rack closest to the door. Christopher noticed two bandages attached to Summer’s left arm, Lindsay noticing them too as she cleared her throat before continuing.
‘How exactly did you do so much damage to yourself?’ she asked with a light hearted smile.
‘I’m a professional dancer’ stated Summer. ‘Ballet to be exact’ she said quickly as though ensuring that nobody interpreted her dancing profession to be in the realm of exotic. ‘During my last rehearsal which was, oh, about five weeks ago now, I slipped on the floor trying to perform a new move and cracked my head on the ballet room floor.’
She nodded as Lindsay emphasised a look of pain whilst Jackie made her way out from the kitchen with a platter of tea in her hands. ‘Well hello. I’m so glad to meet my grandson’s new acquaintances’ she smiled. ‘If you’d just follow me to the kitchen I can make us some snacks. I’m sure the two of you are very hungry after your flight.’
 Jackie began to make her way back into the kitchen as Lindsay followed her, Summer looking at Christopher for a few seconds whilst his back was turned as her father made his way close to her ear. ‘I’m happy that you’ve found someone’ he whispered. ‘I only hope he’s the man you need him to be’ he said, before following Lindsay into the kitchen.
Summer nodded before walking towards Christopher. ‘It’s one hell of a view’ she said.
‘You should see it at both dawn and dusk’ exclaimed Christopher. ‘Now that is a view!’
He looked into Summer’s eyes for a second as they began to draw closer together, before their lips gently touched, their eyes closing before they slowly pulled away, smiling at one another.
‘The doctor told me that as soon as I arrive in Australia the bandages could finally be removed and no further ones would be necessary.’ stated Summer. She moved her hands to the back of her head and began to unravel the bandages that were tied around her facial features, dropping them to the floor as Christopher marveled at the face which had been hidden beneath them.
‘Good God you’re beautiful’ he smiled, taking a deep breath before kissing her again, Christopher and Summer embracing one another as they did so.
‘I’m glad you find me so appealing’ smiled Summer. ‘I would have hated to have made this trip for nothing. You did say that you wished to marry whoever read the note you placed inside of the bottle. But I can tell you now, I am not going to spend the rest of my life with a man I have never slept with.’
Christopher stared at her in awe. ‘What about your father?’ he asked.
‘He only wants me to be happy’ stated Summer.
‘I think they would notice if we didn’t show up to eat the snacks Jackie has prepared’ grinned Christopher.
‘We do have all night’ commented Summer. ‘And when that time comes, I want you to make love to me, the same way you would to a woman you have extremely strong emotions for.’
Christopher nodded, taking Summer’s hand in his before the two of them made their way in the direction of the kitchen.

Lion Heart

SYNOPSIS: A young man attempts to come to terms with the fact that the woman of his dreams is arranged to be married by her parents to another man.

Gregory Wiseman lay in a hospital bed in the recovery ward, his face covered in a multitude of scars and abrasions from intensive trauma. He had light brown coloured hair and dark brown eyes. His cheeks were normally a dull red in colour, but today were particularly bright from the abrasions he had received. Tubes ran out from his nose and an additional tube ran from his vein to a drip, his heart and pulse rate being lower than optimal as he slowly breathed in and out. His eyes were closed whilst in the unconscious state he was in, his body completely motionless as he lay with his head propped up against a pillow. How did he manage to get into such a critical state? The answer for this remained in his past…

Gregory had always had feelings for Lisa. To him she was both mentally and physically beautiful. She had dark, curly hair and big round eyes that were brown in colour. She had a radiant glow to her skin and her smile was to die for. Not only this, but she was incredibly intellectual in many different subjects.
So when he asked her if she wanted to begin seeing him socially it just seemed like the natural thing to do and when she agreed to have a relationship with him he was over joyed.
The reaction Augustus, Lisa’s father had however was quite the opposite. Augustus had jet black hair that was shoulder length in appearance, a few gray hairs beginning to appear. His eyes were a cold, black in colour and his nose was rather large upon his aging, yellow coloured face. His mouth was often open in a snarl and he spoke with a strong accent that made him often appear twice as angry.
‘How dare you go against your family like this!’ he roared when he managed to extract the news from his daughter. ‘Lisa, you are my only daughter and I love you, which is why I expect the best for you. Having a relationship with this Anglo is not the answer. That is why we orchestrated for you to be engaged to Mathieu. You do remember him don’t you? He is one of us, Lisa. That is how we preserve our culture, by marrying into families of our same heritage, not by desecrating our family name and completely and barbarically humiliating us by having a relationship with some ocker. Your mother and I did not immigrate to this country for you to marry some Australian prick. We came for the opportunities it would hold for you. Now you are better than this Anglo. Which is why in two weeks time you shall be united with Mathieu and the two of you can start your lives together.’
Lisa had tried to protest against this and had even attempted to get her mother, Maria’s help, but neither attempts to change her father’s mind succeeded. Her mother too felt it was the best thing Lisa could do, although she of course did not wish to anger her husband and take the side of the one person who could embarrass them by bringing home a person who was not of their culture.
Maria herself had jet black hair like her husband which was always tied back in a bun as to ensure it made its way straight down the very centre of her back. She had large, jet black eyes that seemed to not properly belong to the rest of her person, whilst great red lips were placed upon her face that too seemed to exceed the size that was meant for her.
When Lisa had to reluctantly renege on the date Gregory had offered her he was considerably shocked and badly hurt by this sudden change of heart. He attempted to ask her about this immediate change, but Lisa decided not to tell him the truth, believing he would not be able to properly understand nor comprehend.
Two weeks later, just like her father had promised, Mathieu arrived. He was a tall muscular man that seemed to have an interior train of thought, i.e. he only ever thought of himself. He had dark brown eyes and hair that was always drenched in bodily fluid and had a rather tanned body. He walked around wearing a muscle top and a rumor was that back home he walked around with a bare chest. He had large ears that did not properly seem to suit him, making him look as though he was about ready to take off and fly away at a moment’s notice. His stomach too seemed inappropriately large, making it seem as though he was the kind of man who really enjoyed his beer. There was also the rumor that he had been married several times before, the women who had managed to break the relationship off with him never supplying satisfactory reasons as to why they wanted to be rid of him. They just wanted the relationship to end. Although a man who had been divorced numerous times was seen as a disgraced individual, he was still worth marrying into.
When Lisa turned twenty two she thought she was old. Mathieu however was forty six, leaving Lisa feeling incredibly young by comparison. What put Lisa off most about the man she was expected to marry was not just his physical appearance nor his age, but the lack of English he knew. It was true that she was fluent in both her native tongue as well as in the English dialect, but her English skills far exceeded the knowledge she knew of her own native language.  She did of course bring up this dispute with her father who simply waved it away as he managed the wedding arrangements with Mathieu, who would become an Australian citizen immediately after the marriage had been initiated.
Mathieu himself felt offended at his future wife’s slanderous comments towards his ability to speak English, instantly saying in a heavy Greek accent ‘I can to speak your English! Sea shells sea shells by the sea shore! How much wood could a wood chopper chop if a wood chopper could chop wood?’ He seemed remarkably pleased with himself. Lisa however, was not.
Her opinions appeared however to be invalid though and from then on she was forced to escort her future husband around the environment to get him to know the region.
Gregory occasionally noticed them traversing the city and eventually decided to go to Lisa’s house to find out exactly what was going on. Upon knocking on the door she answered, seeming almost relieved to have a distraction from what was currently occurring in her life, her face having a distinct sadness to it.
‘It took me years to sum up the courage to express to you my feelings’ admitted Gregory, holding a bouquet of flowers out to her. ‘The least you can do is explain to me why you can’t be with me.’
‘I am sorry Gregory’ she said, ‘but I am currently with someone else.’
‘Really?’ he probed. ‘Perhaps you could have told me this before agreeing to go out with me.’
‘I wasn’t engaged then as I am now’ said Lisa, looking as though she didn’t wish to express her current marital status out loud.
‘You’re engaged?’ asked Gregory bewildered. ‘And here I was hoping I might still have a chance to spend the rest of my life with you.’
‘I’m sorry’ said Lisa sadly. ‘You’re really sweet, but I’m afraid we just can’t be together.’
With that, the door closed in Gregory’s face as he began to make his way back towards the side walk, before stopping suddenly and spinning around. ‘Lisa Tsarios!’ he cried at the top of his lungs. ‘I am in love with you and from now until the day I die I will continue to be! And before that moment does indeed transpire, I will marry you and cherish you forever!’
He made his way back whence he came after saying this, a plan already in motion inside his mind.
Whilst inside the house, it was not only Lisa who had heard what Gregory had cried.
‘Who was that idiot?’ spluttered Augustus angrily. ‘Doesn’t that Anglo prick have anyone else he could annoy at this time of day? Doesn’t he know we have a wedding to prepare?’
‘If he comes round here again I’ll kill him!’ cried Mathieu in a Neanderthal-like tone.
Lisa however didn’t hear any of this. She was far too busy being swept away by the comment that Gregory had just made to her whilst she lay in her bed, smiling at the idea of being married to him.
Over the next month Gregory began to show to Lisa exactly how he felt. On numerous mornings flowers were deposited at her door which her father chucked out post haste, the remnants of them often found in the trash receptacle. These she dusted off before applying them in a glass of water and suspending them in her room.
Love letters and romanticised poems were placed inside her mail box, both her father and Mathieu ripping these into smithereens. Mathieu often read them beforehand though, which simply made him even madder. On a couple of occasions however he quite liked the verses and read them to Lisa, attempting to pass them off as his own to make his future wife feel more comfortable with the idea of marrying him. However, she could always see through his lies, knowing full well who had written them, finding the prose to be quite beautiful.
One university morning a broadcast was made, specifying for those who had burnt the phrase ‘I love Lisa Tsarios’ into the front lawn to come forth, Lisa giggling upon hearing this announcement which no one ever admitted to.
During a class PowerPoint presentation which students found incredibly boring, Lisa suddenly became attracted to the fourteenth slide which the two students giving the presentation swore they had never inserted. The words on the slide specified ‘I love Lisa Tsarios 4 life’, the class finding this to be the most amusing part about the assignment. The students giving the presentation managed to obtain eighty five per cent of the expected mark for their project.
Later that same week, Lisa was making her way back to her car and discovered a note attached under one of the windscreen wipers which indicated for her to make her way to the park.
Upon arriving, Lisa found a picnic site had been erected, Gregory making his way out from behind her and presenting her with a bouquet of flowers which she took with a dazzling smile. Together they sat down to eat the food that Gregory had prepared, just as Mathieu happened to drive past. He had only recently begun to learn how to drive in Australia and often did so with a huge smile on his face, believing that such a talent was the most amazing thing he had ever accomplished. ‘You see, I am Australian enough already?’ he could be often heard saying as he drove past the houses in the neighborhood. 
On this one occasion however, no such words were to come from his lips. He instantly stopped the car and stormed over to Lisa, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her away.
‘How dare you humiliate me like this!’ he roared, his English becoming only slightly better. ‘I see the only way to stop this absurd behaviour is to stop it at the source.’ With that, he proceeded to hit Gregory who fell flat to the ground, blood rolling down his face as Mathieu continued to brutalise him, smiling as he did so.
‘Stop!’ cried Lisa, throwing her hands up in the air. ‘Mathieu, I won’t marry you!’
At these words Mathieu stopped and stood to his feet, Gregory lying motionless on the ground beside him.
‘I love him more than I could ever love you!’ shouted Lisa, throwing the engagement ring she had been forced to wear over the past month directly at Mathieu who reluctantly left after kicking Gregory’s motionless body once more.
Lisa proceeded to call the ambulance service, riding in the emergency vehicle with Gregory as he was taken into the emergency ward to access the overall damage which had been done to his person.
Lisa waited outside to hear the news, her mother and father later arriving. ‘Mathieu was just arrested!’ exploded Augustus. ‘I think you had better explain yourself young lady!’ he cried, slapping his daughter across the face.
‘And so he should have been!’ retaliated Lisa. ‘He could have killed Gregory!’
‘Again with the bloody Anglo!’ growled Augustus. ‘Who cares about this damn Australian bastard! He deserved all that he received for meddling in our affairs. If he does die he will die a hero to the people of Greece, because from here on no Anglo will ever meddle in our affairs from fear of what will happen to them. Besides, Mathieu won’t be charged. He was released under the condition that he would never return to Australia. Do you know what you have done? You have ruined the chance you had with Mathieu. He would have been good for you, but no, you had to humiliate us!’
‘Gregory loves me!’ shouted Lisa. ‘I know you don’t want him to, but love has no cultural background like we do. It makes the decisions at its own volition. It has no laws; no boundaries. It does what it will and it has no adversary strong enough to bring it to its knees.’
‘Then love is a fool and deserves the same fate as that bastard in there!’ shouted Augustus, indicating at the emergency ward. ‘If you choose him over your own family do not expect to come back to us. From now on you are no longer our daughter and I am no longer your father.’ With that both of Lisa’s parents left as she stood in the empty corridor of the hospital.
Not long afterwards Gregory was released into the recovering ward, Lisa sitting by his side, waiting for him to awake, just as one of his fingers moved, his eyes beginning to open as he awoke to see Lisa’s smiling face.
‘What happened?’ he asked, a pained expression making its way across his features.
‘Rest now’ smiled Lisa, kissing his forehead before rubbing it with her gentle fingers. ‘We will talk again later.’

And so they did.