cause and effect

you breathe, I inhale you;
like the warm rays of sun
beckoning grass covering
dew to rise up and fly back
to the clouds.

you speak, I soak you in;
like the voice of God whispering
down from heaven and altering
hearts to turn from old ways 
for a higher purpose.

you look my way, I dive in;
like a man who has walked the
desert for many years and finally
arrives at a lake filled with the
purest of waters.

you smile, I leap upon your lips;
like an astronaut who spent
far too long in space and has
returned to step foot once more
in his beloved home.

you touch me, I melt;
like an unlit candle waiting
patiently for it’s wick to be
ignited so it may be warmed
by the flame.

you kiss me, I kiss you;
like a babe who can only
mimmick what is seen and
hopes you feel the way I do
when our lips meet.

                               Jaymes Ian Woode


Love sparks

it happens in a flash, a brief
encounter, two people meeting
on the street, online, a coffee shop,
and they engage in conversation,
talk about the weather and where
they are from, it deepens into what
they do for a living, how they were
raised, what their hopes and dreams
are, they order a second cup, one
without cream and move from the
barstool to a booth, laughing at this
moment, this unexpected invitation
into each other’s life, though brief it
is heartfelt, passionate, and inside
visions of the near future begin to
arise, to come into light with color,
seeing hands being held, soft kisses,
playful moments in the park, with a
dog, and then a wedding, she’s in
white lace, seams adorned with gems,
her wavy hair falling on her shoulders,
as he stares, not afraid but frozen in her
presence, his vows memorized, they
walk the aisle together, into the
parking lot and the horse drawn
carriage, she steps in, he follows, they
embrace, her cup is empty, his still full,
she smiles at his silence as he comes
back to reality, he shivers, his hands
moist, but he knows, without any
doubt, right now, at this very moment,
what he must do, or fear losing
the magic she created in him.

                                          Jaymes Ian Woode

Stormy Romance

in a house made for one, there
is always room for two, to watch
rain drops slither down panes as
thunder roars, i quiver when alone;
i want you near, to hold and bring
words of reassurance to my ear, to
crack a fire and open a book, to
reach for the blanket from inside the
nook, talking softly into the still air, 
while feeling your hand keeping me
from despair, the light dancing on
the ceiling too intimate for only me, as
the sky jolting sparks are finally set free, 
forcing us closer, together, dark
red wine cloaked by inclement
weather; we need more candles,
or maybe this is just fine.

                                         Jaymes Ian Woode

Don’t forget me

what if you forget me, the
sound my voice makes when
i see you after being gone all
day; what if you forget the
length of my arms that wrap
around you or the width of
my smile when I look into
your eyes; what if you forget
the depth of my love and
longing to be near you, to be
included in your life, as you
grow and open your wings;
what if your forget the stories
i told you at night, tucking
you into bed and planting one
last kiss on your cheek; what
if you forget what life is like
with me in it, being there,
helping you through the
tough times that brought
you despair; what if you don’t
remember that you are
everything to me, that which
fills my soul and makes the
sun a happy yellow; please,
please, never forget.

                                 Jaymes Ian Woode

River of goodness

like heated rays beaming
upon ice dripping slowly
down glacial mountainsides,
streaming through a slalom
of white covered aspens
shaking mounted snowflakes
from their branches, dusting the 
thin air like eagles soaring through
layered clouds, calling their mates
whom wait, nestling their young,
cuddling frail bodies, shelter, 
granting pleasurable security
whilst eyeing braided brooks
quietly nourishing pastures seasoned
of off-spring, taking wobbly first
steps amid crowding proud mothers
appreciating nature’s run-off,
sustenance, the life-saving power
of several tiny drops of water;
the importance of compliments.

                                   Jaymes Ian Woode

soulful concoction

an ounce of sadness,twenty warm tears
rolling off red cheeks, dripping into a 
splash of blended grief, heartache jarred,
seasoned over time, a teaspoon will do,
not a drop more, roomy enough so
to add a lonely sigh, a fiery spice,
and pour, slowly, upon glacially
chilled blocks of life’s artic ways, 
abandoned as they crack open,
cold to hot, like a hug after winter’s 
storm, yet no one’s around, to hold, to
warm sluggish blood, the work is
unfinished, move, step forward,
include sprinkles of passion,
purposeful reason, I will, I will,
toss in a shrig of desire, to float 
above all that aches, a chasm,
then stir, gently with care, shake not, 
avoiding slight releases of nauseating
aromas, be gentle, finishing off
with garnishments of hope, drink,
that I will be remembered, embraced,
and renewed, that love’s arms will 
find me, before the glass runs dry.

                                             Jaymes Ian Woode

Cycle of Love

The future isn’t always uncertain,
time passes us by, the earth spins,
day after day, light fills the sky,
than night, and birds still sing
each and every sunrise, as
the morning dew lifts up from
the ground, new leaves grow,
turning green in the warmth of
springtime, until the air cools,
they fall, life repeats, replaying
itself in time, but with you, the
cycle is non-revolving, each dawn
as new and fresh as the first,
each moment captured,
with you by my side, a new
canvas to paint, a new step into
the future of us; so know this, some
happenings are predictable, some
not as much,  but with you, now,
this day filled with many more
tomorrows, I wish for you to be
with me, walking hand and hand,
that our love may continue to cycle,
in the uncertain pictures we create.

                                          Jaymes Ian Woode