The Accents Of My Youth
My Love and I
Did such soft kisses make
That I questioned why
My soul could not re-make
The accents of my youth...
She did at night
Wonder why I couldn't contain
Love's most subtle lullaby
And simply replicate
The promise in kissing's proof...
Brighter than virginal eyes
Starlit Lovers did fast create
My reasons why
Her sweet lips did make me afraid
Of the accents of my youth...
My Love, downsized
By my own shortcomings
Too slow to realize
Such soft kisses were her hearts refrain
Too late, to kisses undo...
My Love and I
With all my questions why
Did cause sweet tears
To, one day recognize...
And now, so long ago, has arrived
And the simple fact that I,
Am able to empathize
With a smile upon my face
While I most jubilantly hypothesize
Over the magic within
The accents of my youth...
Tony Taylor
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Comments
Wonderful reflective write on times gone by . Simply magical return to the past to take a comprehensive overview of the effect of youthfulness and its concerns !! Â :)
Lovely write.
Take care. Â :)
Thanx SIR WATERS!!......so appreciate your most honest and insightful comment brother!!......smiles..:...T xo ?ââ´âł
:)
Beautiful....beautiful......write my friend. So much to take in in this sensual pondering of love through the ages. I get this interpretation that the one you love and the power of your kiss never changes although our appearances will....or at least I hope not lol. Awesome poetry T, always enjoyable read. Peace brother.
LOL! Thanx Devon!!.....I hope not as well my friend(smiles)......thanx for the positive ink brother poet!!........Love to you and yours!!......high fives!!.....T xo  ?ââ´âł
Great poem that reminds us, all love is innocent.
Thanx KIMMY!!....you're definitely right about that my friend!!.......LOVE and ROCKETS!!......T xo  ?ââ´âł
My Dear Brother Poet Tony,
Oh my God.  The memories your beautiful words have rekindled.  Such young innocence.  Those "Accents of Our Youth", when a kiss meant more to us than today's "Roll in the Hay".  When a hug was more important than burns from a rug.  When, if ever, the touch of a supple breast superseded all that we had ever hoped for.  Now, in this world gone mad, no one ever experiences the "Accents of Their Youth".
Peace, Love and Rockets,
Larry xxx
Dear Brother Poet Larry!!
There is no way to respond to this comment ......other than to say.......you're SOOOOO right my friend........appreciate it......VERY much!!......smiles!!........T xo  ?ââ´