You pick up a pen after so many years
and just wonder
is this what I want to do,
will I be able to, or
has it been too long
There is a slight hesitation
your hand trembles and you fear
only for a moment
yet the moment stretches on
and then suddenly
as suddenly as it had arisen
the doubts recede and you find
a calm confidence
as you resume what you always did
Such is with poetry
as it is with love.
Years pass and you forget,
what it was like,
the first awakening, the first kiss
and yet one day,
one day when you feel
it must have been another lifetime
deep down in your heart,
you can feel the stirrings of an old romance
and still shiver at the delicious thought
When you feel it cant happen again
that no, its been so long
and suddenly you can feel
the hunger in your heart
the desire in your arms
aching to plant a new future
the way you always planted dreams

There's something about the two
poetry and love
You can never grow too old for it
nor too rusty...