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E. H. Johnson, love, in English Clear filters

CheerfulE. H. Johnson

Dog Gone Heart Thief

I wish he wouldn't look at me Like I was God. It puts me in such misery To use the rod. Like when he chewed my Sunday hat, Then cringed in shame, And mutely begged me to see that It was just a game. His soulful eyes were full of tears. What could I say? Only what I’ve been saying for years; "Aw, it's okay." I just can't punish love like his; It would be unfair. What small price my torn clothing is For love so rare!
SadE. H. Johnson

Crucifixion

Impaled Upon cruel thorns, The rose-moth writhes, While love-dreams, pierced by sharp words, Die painfully.
RomanticE. H. Johnson

Vagabond

Seek not to detain me when I choose to go, I am a vagabond, as you well know. And though I tarry here beside your fire, My gypsy heart still knows its old desire. For I am not one to mingle with the crowd; I long for quiet, when folks get too loud. Give me the trails where deep silence reigns, The winding rivers, and green forest lanes. When horizons beckon, they destroy my will; I want to explore beyond the next hill. Let us part without any painful scenes; Farewell is what loving a vagabond means.
SadE. H. Johnson

In an Oxygen Tent

My starving lungs draw in the cold, clean air; My eyes are closed, but I know you are there Beside my bed. So much remains unsaid... If I could talk, I’d speak my love for you In phrases old, and yet so very new. But I am mute -- the pain grows more acute. I think of how much your love means to me, Of countless things we planned to do and see. Love, I was wrong to postpone them so long. I recall all the busy times I planned I would later pause to gently press your hand. Why did I wait so late, so late? My heart cries out to tell you there is hope. The Valley is dark, but I shall climb its slope. We must believe, rather than grieve. And if God wills that we share future days,
SadE. H. Johnson

Echoing Heart

My heart is filled with echoes, dear, Since you have gone away. Your lilting voice sings in my ear As in our Yesterday. And though I seek another’s arms To fill my echoing heart, There’s something lacking in her charms, And we soon drift apart. True romance cannot come to me; It is already here. I'm chained to you by memory, And echoes of you, dear.
RomanticE. H. Johnson

Visitation

If, in the stillness of the night, You feel a sudden stir of air, Awaken, but please don’t take fright; It is only my heart standing there. For my heart often spans the space That lies between myself and you, To gaze down at your sleeping face; Thus, all Love’s pledges to renew. Yes, wake up, dear, if wake you must, And sigh a dreamy little sigh. Then close your eyes in complete trust; Someone who loves you is standing by...
RomanticE. H. Johnson

Fulfillment

I never really felt aware Of how a woman wore her hair, Or whether her eyes were brown or blue. Never -- until I met you! I never thought I'd be content Unless I was free wherever I went, Or knew how much a home could mean. Never -- till you graced the scene. But now my heart’s no longer free, For you have wrought a change in me, And I shall never want to roam. Never -- while you wait at home!
RomanticE. H. Johnson

Quiet Things

I love the quiet things -- The soft chuckling of a little brook As it staggers through a cool dark forest, Pregnant with silence. I love the tap-dancing of rain On the crown of my dripping hat, As I walk along a near-deserted street, Watched by the mist-enshrouded lampposts. I love your quiet smile; The silent communion of our hearts, When we sit gazing into the glowing fire, Our dreams dancing in its flames. I love your sympathy, Unspoken, yet saying so very much, When the day has dealt me weariness and care. Ah, Love, I love your quiet love!

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