In this modern world full of suspicion; lacking empathy;
political correctness, avarice, and crass mendacity
cloud the poet's vision... rosy-tinted, once; but now imbued
with caution; less some thought, or musing be abducted... misconstrued.

This soul-corroding attitude is not confined to poetry;
it sidles through relationships... blighting spontaneity,
scattering the seeds of doubt; of trust, creates a wilderness.
The true romantic doesn't stand a chance
with distrust manifest.

This is no bitter condemnation spurred by selfish, thwarted needs;
instead, a soft lament for things, perhaps, now lost... as we impede,
by selfish thoughts... misleading words; by nuances that give offence,
the flowering of true romance, thus choked by weeds of diffidence.

My poems strive to guide the thoughts... to light a path... to show the way
back to the time romance had rules;
sweet etiquette, we all obeyed.
Taking one step at a time; hoping... Will it be tonight?
Each step, a breathless journey of discovery of new delights.

But, today; if I said "You're so beautiful"
your thoughts might be
"He's just one more smooth-talking jerk trying it on... perhaps, to see
if, with his soft, beguiling words, he manages to turn my head,
and, so bewitched... and, so besotted... I'll invite him to my bed."

Or, then... the young 'Stud' on the town... wandering hands, and wandering eyes.
Arrogant; as his perceived prowess, amongst the girls, he tries.
'She's cute, and nearly legal; great!... it really shouldn't take much more
than one or two big Margaritas...
then, my man... you're bound to score'.

So much then, for the modern concept of romance;
a sad affair.
They really don't know what they're missing; I do, though... for I've been there.
The dreaming, and the longing for that special someone, in the night;
a single kiss, that promises so much to come... such sweet delight.

I have loved and I have lost; I have longed for pastures new.
I have nurtured hopes and dreams quite hopelessly;
now... haven't you?
And, yet... there is one truth in all of this; if nothing else, believe
romance itself romances us...
unless romance... we do deceive.