Written While Smitten

By Ron Cook

According to Physiological Psychology research, each of us has an uncontrollable, immediate, powerful reaction to facial expressions. Simply seeing another person’s face creates a chemical reaction we cannot control …. a smile makes us immediately stronger and happier, while a frown makes us immediately weaker and sad. Try this … walk by a stranger or a friend and give them a smile. Notice your own reaction when they react to your smile. I’ve noticed how amazing it is when someone smiles. It seems to immediately make them more attractive! Interesting … ?

“Love, whose month is ever May,” wrote Shakespeare. May explodes with color, fragrance and beauty. Poetry bursts from nature and every species’ pores as new life and possibilities claim their season. I’ve found there’s nothing quite as magical as that initial surge of feeling created by new love. That exhilarating romantic combination of pheromones, visual delight, and auditory pleasure. Initial romantic ruminations seem to encapture my senses and delight my thoughts with a special nuance that cannot be matched.


It doesn’t happen often, yet when I do feel the “Muse” of love sting me with its arrow, I do not question or seek to play-out-the-tape. I just write the poetry from which comes the Muse … and then, have learned to let it go. For what I perceive and see, doth not always a reciprocal reaction find. In other words … my “picker” does not mean the intended will pick back.

Here are some love-poems I’ve written over the years, all in the spirit of May love lore. Some lead to romance … some lead to friendship … some ended at the last line of the poem …
This first was written four years ago for a lovely lady who has become my dear friend … we share our lives over the miles that originally separated Colorado and Florida. Time and space have no gap in true friendship …

To Ellen
April 18, 2015

Across the miles and far away,
Ellen found me on this day.
Through cyberspace and misty talk,
We shared together this day’s walk.

We do not know where this may go,
Yet faith impels us forth,
The ways of open hearts and minds,
Lived-life its way can pour.

So if today is but a gist,
Of things that chance may come,
Then, I for one, will seek the ends,
Of future crossings run.

This next was written a few years ago, also, about a dear lady who has become a very dear friend with which I think of and talk to each day …
When Lo the Night
December 26, 2016

When lo the night doth cometh,
And low the sun doth dropeth,
I’ll text a line and write a rhyme,
To one whose beauty doth not stopeth!

Then until my fingers doth perspire,
And M’Lady doth retire,
I’ll continue writing words of prose,
My mind doth truly require!

Upon the River Cane,
A beauty doth there reign,
She wields her staff and sorts life’s chaff,
And grows roses in the Spring.

So, heed this tale well,
Though not this tail be long,
For she is quick unlike this poem,
Her grace is like a song…

The following poem was inspired after a day spent golfing near Tampa with some friends from Canada. We had brought the eggplant parmesan (my excellence), and she offered a lovely coffee as well as pleasant conversation … I was smitten … the Muse was real, yet the relationship ended at the last line of the poem … 🙂 That’s how it goes sometimes …

The Muse
March 10, 2019

A Muse is someone special,
She puts words in my heart,
That sends the words onto my pen,
New paths will start to chart.

“What is a Muse,” I asked out loud,
“How will I know she’s near?”
The answer whispered from within,
“You’ll feel a trembling fear!”

“You’ll tremble someone so unique,
Would flit and float so near,
You’ll quake at weakness in your knees,
Shiv-er from words you’ll hear.”

I was-not set for shakes like this!
How can this now be so,
For i am knower of people,
Controlling ebb and flow!

“You’ve no control when, moves she you,
You’ll sputter breathes to take,
She’ll swallow u up like the ocean blue,
To leave u washed in her wake.”

“You’ll fear that some breeze might consumer her,
You’ll worry that from you she’ll flee,
You’ll tenderly ask her the questions you have,
You’ll foolishly hope she is pleased.”

What was that gentle presence?
What magic she possess,
That charged my very being,
A captive and gentle guest?

Her eyes they twinkled speaking,
They danced and hid and teased,
They tilted at the edge like,
A fairy-sprite it seemed!

Her words a lilt she spoke them,
I listened for the tone,
Her voice was full of mirth and joy,
When laughing at my joke.

She walked with grace and sat with charm,
Some princess from far land,
I felt at court as gestures made,
She nearly touched my hand…

I must return and seek again,
If magic or if real,
But as for now,
I’ll contemplate and revel in the dream…

As it was,
Not real was this,
It was but just a dream,
Yet i am grateful for the words,
A Muse, no less, it seems …

This last piece took place just back around the time corner … this was surely a “passing ship in the night.” Perhaps I’ll learn her name? It’s sometimes just all about the ambiance …

Green Eyes
March 27, 2019

I caught a glimpse in back the room,
Drifting softly in,
Brown hair and clothes were all i saw,
A hesitant sha-grin.

And then she sat across from me,
I softly caught her eyes,
She spoke with passion of her life,
Fears of desertion nigh.

And as she spoke i saw her hair,
Fall gently on her brow,
She told her tale of woe forsook,
In this new meaning found.

Would i speak to her,
Would I not,
The sharing time would end,
And then a time of in-between,
Would offer up a friend?

I spoke to one who heard my words,
Invited me to speak,
I spoke another from the room,
My focus he did seek.

And then she was right next to me,
I opened with a smile,
We talked a shared memory,
A poem i wrote for child.

While standing there so close, yet far,
Looked straight into her eyes,
So green and dark they looked me back,
A radiant surprise!

So spoke we there a minute more,
Then moving gently on,
I felt enchanted by her glow,
Each aspect added charm.

Had I mis-spoke or said too much,
Or stumbled with my aim,
I wondered as I moved the room,
Sharing other’s pains.

And so, it’s left, unsure, unknown,
But gladdened by the time,
I felt enchanted by a Muse,
Again, these words to rhyme.

I know not when these moments come,
They flit, they float, then fly,
But I am grateful when they here,
Then leave them with a sigh…

Thanks for walking down cupid’s bumpy trail with me … love enriches us all, regardless of its length or passage …

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