Merritt - Close Your Eyes

Close Your Eyes MICHAEL MERRITT AuthorHouse 1663 Liberty Drive Bloomington, IN 47403 www.authorhouse.com Phone: 1-800-839-8640 2012 by Michael Merritt. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. First published by AuthorHouse 12/30/2011 ISBN: 978-1-4678-8180-7 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-4678-8181-4 (ebk) Printed in the United States of America Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery Thinkstock. Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them. Contents Pour toi.
Assez de la tristesse! This collection of poetry is set in Paris, Oxfordshire and the south - west of England in spring 2010 and is a reflection of feelings and thoughts, which, in periods of inspiration and clarity, take up much of my time. From the hustle and bustle of Paris city centre to the the calm and tranquillity of the park des Buttes Chaumont, from the west - coast mainline to the Thames, I have tried to encapsulate my feelings of that poque. Intensely drawn to commit all my ideas to paper, scribbled and scrawled on bits of card, envelopes and scrap paper this collection seemed to have no end. These poems are together for a reasonthey belong together. Just as some people do.

There arent enough words in the world to express my love for this work. I am a true romantic and dreamer. The world would be a darker place without us. Pour toi. One day Ill climb in, youll let me. Physically and mentally encourage me.

Accept me to the inside of your heart. Ive been running through fields. Drowning in my tears for way too long now. Looking for my soul. You came from nowhere. Nothing.

No one knew you and Id never heard of such a miracle that would ultimately be you. Now I cling to the outside of your heart. Where I am going to stay. Le 26 janvier 2010 Je veux dormir dans tes bras. Veux me rveiller avec toi. Veux passer les jours, moi et toi.

Le brouillard, la pluie, nimporte quoi. Dans les rues isoles, je ne vois que toi. Tu me fais rire, jaime a, moi. Le plus important, cest, je crois, Souhaiter une vie, avec toi. Le 5 fvrier 2010 Cold as ice. Grey indifference.

As blinding brilliance smothers her. Its bleak up there. High and elevated. No one hears. I see her daily. I watch and wonder.

She is forever on the brink. Forever hindered yet I know she wants to. Only the trees are in the way. I know the park is beyond, full of summer days and picnic baskets. She once saw children running through the water. Now the only water she knows runs from her eyes.

And from her soul. Maybe thats why she stares into the distance. She hopes to dry her eyes. She wants to go back to the park. Le 8 fvrier 2010 You smile at me. You touch me.

Smell me and hit me. All in fun all in love. Kiss me. Tickle me. Find my neck excite me. All can be undone.

One fine day your face will adorn my life forever. You dont know it yet. Hold me. Squeeze me. Put your arms around me. I want to get undressed with the girl in my life.

The girl of my dreams. The girl who truly wants me. So tickle me. Love me. Throw your arms around me. 6 mai 2010 Its damp underfoot. Droplets. Droplets.

Spray in the air, the type that wets you. You were wet. We stroll down the hill along the pathway with our cover. I hold the black umbrella over your head. I really want my arm around you but I cant let you get wet. I give you my jacket I sense youre cold.

The chill breeze tells me to keep you warm. If I had my arm around you I could squeeze you and you would feel all of my warmth. My heartbeat alone would pump love and heat into your precious, sweet body. The body I try to protect from the rain and the cold. The lake spits as the rain bounces off its serene surface. Les merles take your fancy and the robin sings a lullaby.

He sings for you. He tells you that the typ with the parapluie is caring for you for the first of many days. As the grey day worsens and we are nearly engulfed by mist and fog and clouds we climb the rock face to stare out. Over beauty. History. In fog. In fog.

So hold me. Your tendresse. Your touch flips my heart. Soft. Smooth. You gentle girl.

You bring me towards your beautiful lips. Togetherness seems to be strong. Our lips seem to recognise each other. They greet each other with affection and rest motionless as if time itself stood still. But slow movement. Emerging langue.

Delicately caresses. My top lip is forever yours. Eyes closed and both immersed in a dream. Warm and soft and humid and reminding me of you. On waking from bliss I see the dome in gorgeous sunlight. Hold me. Hold me.

After dinner? After talking to you. After walking with you. In Place du Tertre. Artists love it here with Rue Poulbot under our feet. Scribes subscribe to the state of laissez-faire and unadulterated wishes. Hold me.

Hold my hand. Whilst walking with you. Whilst talking with you. On lescalier de Montmartre. On descend, vers nimporte o! As long as Im with you and by your side. You remind me, do you know, of days last summer which were warm, wet and humid.

As I ran for my life just to prove Mas tu vu? But you taught me things I never knew. Les porcs. And the resto we sit in reminds me blindly of this love I hold and cannot disown. Its all for you. In a daze of wonderment that will never subside. 9h45, samedi le 8 mai 2010. 9h45, samedi le 8 mai 2010.

Green, pure, clair. I smell the water flowing serenely and calmly. Hand in hand I feel your warmth. le Saint Louis clasps the hand of La Cit as Notre Dame basks in the sunlight. I am delighted and proud to be by your side. Strolling boldly like the couple that we are.

I sense people staring at us in awe. How perfect we are. Boats are moored and bicycles cling to railings for dear life. And you radiant and belle against the clear water, smile and light up my day. I hold you. I feel the beauty.

I have to embrace you as we listen to soft latin religion in Saint Germain. It tells me we are meant. That question the one which tore at our hearts and senses and minds is slowly answering itself. Why did we meet? In France on a warm sultry evening. To slowly realise and see that we met because we are meant. Smooth. Fair. Freckles. Sweet. Pure. Touch. Petite. Tender. Tender.

Hand on your body. Resist. Cant. More. Lips. Gentle. Tongue. Fierce. Proud. Passion. Licking. Eyes wide. Bright. Knowing. Yearning. Feeling. Needing. Mouth. Your body. Pleasure. Immense. Intense. Forever. Forever.

Lust yet love. 11h35, le 9 mai 2010. Cafs and boulevards always in my memory. Rain sodden tablecloths beside you. Cafs and boulevards intimate and loving the scene for my theatre of romance of love and understanding of kindness free words and longing. Cafs and boulevards are like my mind, like the traffic always racing, always flowing at speed, in a whirl.

Like my mind, serenity springtime floating on the breeze like love in the wind to you. Do you see me in your caf on some long boulevard? Am I with you am I beside you? Parlons-nous le franais? Affection deep in the others eyes? Am I besotted with you? The cafs, the boulevards the aroma, your body the rose I clasp with two hands. My caf, my boulevard imagined yet remembered holding you forever in our France. 17h27 le12 mai 2010 One day I will look down from a great height on to your face. You wont know it at the time. You wont feel it at the time.