LOVE and LOST

Beautiful illusion

We speak in maybes made of gold,

of homes not built, of hands grown old,

of quiet nights and morning light,

of standing close through every fight.

We talk of dreams with open hearts

the fragile plans where forever starts.

In every word, one truth shines through

when I say future, I am speaking of you.

-With you

In the quiet hours,

when the world grows still,

there is nowhere I’d rather be

than beside the one who feels like home

the one who knows the shape of my heart

without ever asking me to explain it.

With you, time becomes something softer,

not rushed, not chased

just held gently in laughter

in long conversations that

wander nowhere and everywhere,

in comfortable silences that say everything

The smallest moments become treasures

a hand resting in mine,

a smile meant only for me,

the sound of your voice

turning an ordinary day

into something worth remembering.

You are my favorite place to go,

even when we go nowhere at all.

A crowded room feels empty without you,

and the simplest evening feels magical

when it’s spent wrapped in your presence.

I find joy in knowing your mind,

peace in learning your heart,

wonder in the little things that make you you

the way you laugh, the way you care,

the way your love fills spaces in me

I didn’t know were empty before.

And if I could choose how to spend

every morning, every sunset,

every fleeting moment

I would choose this

you beside me, your hand in mine,

sharing a life built from love,

laughter, and quiet devotion

spending forever with my favorite person,

who also happens to be

the love of my life.

-Future

They sit together, close at night,

speaking softly in the dim light

of futures waiting just ahead,

of vows they’ll speak, of paths they’ll tread.

They talk of wedding songs that play,

of trembling hands on that sweet day,

of standing still while time feels new,

promising forever I choose you.

They speak of little names they love,

of tiny gifts sent from above,

of nursery walls in gentle tones,

of laughter filling quiet homes.

They dream of first steps down the hall,

small voices learning how to call,

sticky fingers, bedtime books,

and sleepy smiles with drowsy looks.

They talk of trials that life may bring

the weight of love, the strength of spring

of sleepless nights and worried tears,

of holding close through passing years.

They speak of teaching little hearts

how kindness grows and healing starts,

how love is patient, fierce, and true,

and built in all the things we do.

They dream of birthdays, scraped-up knees,

of family dinners, holidays, memories

of watching children slowly grow,

then chasing lives of their own to know.

And when the house grows still one day,

when little footsteps fade away,

they picture two hands, old and worn,

still reaching close each quiet morn.

For in those talks of kids and rings,

of homes and hope and future things,

what matters most in every part

is that forever starts with heart.

-Easy

Talking with you feels like air,

so easy, light, and always there

no need to search for words or hide,

you meet my thoughts right side by side.

We speak and time just slips away,

turning the night into the day

and every word, so calm, so true,

feels like I’ve always known you.