The Journey of Love

My dear friend David (aka Grumpy Writer) presents a three poem journey of love: the pleasure; the passion; and the pain.

David ‘was born before there were such things as televisions, electricity or the written word. He attended an all-girl comprehensive school (until he failed the medical) and david chandler grumpy writer writer's grump dr.whodini writer authorcurrently resides on a small asparagus plantation in Fiji with his two cats and an invisible ostrich called Gerald. Well, the bit about the cats is true!’

You may like to find him on Twitter





What could be the ending to this fine September day?

The answer is still hidden and I really cannot say.

Perhaps to hold me close to you, take me in your arms.

Whisper that you trust me, that you know I’ll do no harm.


Gently lift your finger and wipe away the tear

of happiness within my eyes each time that you are near.


To guarantee a lifetime making sure your life rings true.

To show you that from now on there’ll be no more hurt for you.


To be as one, no matter what the world outside us holds.

For we are more than friends or lovers, we are entwined souls.


Perhaps to marry and confirm our love to one and all.

And each year to renew that vow and from the rooftops call.


To hold our newborn baby girl. Our own sweet child, as we

swear to cherish this new life. Love her unreservedly.


And as the years grow shorter and we’re frail and dim of eye.

To sit together in the park; watch young lovers walk on by.


And not be scared to say goodbye, when we take that final breath.

Our love it has no barriers. It transcends even death.


So what could be the ending to this fine September day?

To tell me that you love me, that you’ll never walk away.





‘Pull me close,’ she said to me.

‘Feel my warm embrace.

Closer, closer darling.

Your breath upon my face.’


‘Hold me tight,’ my lover cried.

‘Let me hold you too.

Tighter, tighter darling.

All I want is you’.


‘A gentle touch,’ she smiled at me.

Her hand upon my skin.

‘Touch me, touch me darling

And sense the warmth within.’


‘Love me now,’ she whispered.

‘Our feelings we shan’t hide.

Love me, take me, fuck me.

I want you deep inside.’


‘Look at me,’ she told me.

‘Look into my eyes.

I know now that you love me

and that it isn’t lies.’


‘Sleep with me,’ she murmured.

‘Close your eyes and sleep.

For we are here together,

there is no need to weep.’


‘Live with me,’ she asked me.

‘Live our lives as one.

Jus me and you; a life anew.

A new day has begun.’




This may be the last poem

that I’ll ever write to you.

This may be the final time

I can say I love you.


This may be the last poem

that tells of how I feel.

This may be the final time

I voice these feelings, real.


I may never tell you

how dim the sun did shine

whenever I was with you;

Whenever you were mine.


I may never feel again

the warmth, the joy, the care.

I may never see again

the sea breeze through your hair.


This cannot change the thoughts I have.

This will not hide what’s real.

What we shared was special.

It’s something I still feel.


This may be the last poem

The last of all my days.

For with you, you take all my love

as we go our separate ways.


Take care my friend I love you

and I will always care.

Where I go you’re beside me…



…although you won’t be there.






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