unfulfilled love - unrequited love - love relinquished - life unlived...

we all are gypsies of a sort wandering traveling through this life other lives space and time here there and yon on roads less traveled - this is a written and visual journal of my own travels - imagined and/or real - come along with me - we'll dance among the stars under the sun and over the moon - we'll share our stories of love around the campfire - come along -

poetry from the heart...

POETRY FROM THE HEART - my own words dedicated to all the words left unspoken, the acts left undone - the love unlived unfulfilled -

i dance with you...only in dreams...

tweet me, but tweet me gently, please!

Friday, September 17, 2010


he spoke aloud no words
she heard them in his touch
he made no promises
she asked for none
he slept with honor
while she slept alone
but he gave her all he had
and for that her heart was glad


Steppenwolf said...

Beautiful and poignant writing Gypsywoman. Time stood still for a moment, your words affecting memory and bittersweet instance. To tell a story is one thing. To tell the reader's story is art.


ah, well, steppenwolf, your kind words do humble me so - and it pleases my soul to think that even a single word might be meaningful to the reader! ;)

a short story, this one here, but a magnificent one nonetheless - and one which continues to transcend time for me -

in any event - thank you so much - your visits are always such a pleasure -

Nevine said...

Jenean, those last two lines really made my heart just pause. Words like pearls... "pieces" like jewels. And what can be more delightful than a happy heart? I'm smiling...



your comments, dear nevine, are always so comprehensively thought out - and they are received in the same way - it is truly heartwarming to have such dialogue! thank you! and yes, what better than a happy heart! ;)

Trish and Rob MacGregor said...

Beautiful, as always.


and as always, i thank you, trish, for your words!

Roger Gauthier said...

Honour and Love... oh yes they go hand in hand
So he slept with honour - how could he not?

This man must be torn and plead with his own heart - if rules were different. The earth is already too cold, don't you feel it through your feet on the frozen grass?

Promises are often empty, treacherous words. And if not, how often do they bring disaster in their wake?

In the end, honour will keep this man whole - whole and maybe full of regrets. In the end there is no peace of mind, not in this stupid life.

I used to laugh so often, I used to... but things change while I'm not watching, and the pieces of what's left of this life won't be worth anything for anyone.

May I ask, gipsy woman: what can a man give when he's got nothing?

-- Written as usual in counterpoint by the Prophet From The North! :-)


Nobody can know what I mean as I make a point of not knowing what I'm talking about. Ain't that fun? :-) This one was written beautifully... but I saw through part of it!


but one, whether a man or a woman, always always has something to give another, hisself, and that is just that - his or her SELF - and is that not the greatest gift of all?