Intimacy, like a chameleon, changes with the mood
and swings like a pendulum in time.
Hearts beating together, in the truth of the love
they know, are steadfast making rhyme.
If what is said be true and what is shown be real,
no apparition to vanish in the reality.
And when fruition achieved, is reason to see in light
the dark untruth of doubtful morality.
It is here, in the smoke drifting heavy though
mountain's dell, the phantasm of that sort.
Can now be taken, what was lived vicariously,
in the emotional well of human thought.
Transparent physical wrappings are most easily those
we shed, to open the floods of feeling.
Psychologically attired packaging affords more the tryst,
and oft sets love reeling.
Conjured in the knowledge that one accepts as truth,
now set before eyes that truth as a lie.
Is here, now formed new vision basis data drawn,
so passes dream and fantasies that die.
If my heart and mind have risen to fast,
to high to fly, descend now slowly glide.
If I had only known, come out from in the clouds,
seek do not hide.
See more poems by panther811
View this poem
Comment on this poem