Quiet Story: Romantic IMprov Haiku

I could write her a/
story, but I would not/
post it publically.

Loon Calls The Sunset Goodbye: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

My video camera ran,/
dancing with the lake’s waves/
and the sky’s reflections.

My fingers froze,
trying to hold lens steady,
silently breathing.

I’ve learned to be quiet,
to live with the pain
of stillness.

It was all worth it
to hear a lone loon
call the sunset goodbye.

In the stillness of/
solitude you feel His love/
and Creation’s gifts.

OR
… you feel God’s love/
in Creation’s gifts.

Some may call out
their Love
loudly,
in public.

I would never,
by name,
name her who inspires,
uplifts,
motivates me.

She
will be
still.
Quiet.
Unknown
to the world,
known only
to me.

As it should be.

I won’t write
about her,
by name;
by specific reference.
The world would never say:
“This piece about her,
specifically.”

Who was the piece
“Fuer Elise” for?
Who was Elise?

If she is my muse,
I must write about her.
I cannot keep silent
about her.

But no one will ever know,
for sure,
it is her.

Just as God writes about people:
“There was a certain woman …”
keeping her identity
private,
only by inspiration
known.

And if she asks:
“Is it I?”,
I may smile.

When I’m quiet, I/
could be hurting, or maybe/
blissfully happy.

Sarah Palin can/
see Russia from her back yard./
I hear the freeway.

You asked me to be/

quiet and leave you alone./

You got your request.

From whence/
cometh the silence?
In the uncanny quiet/
that lasts the night,/
I wonder where your smile went.

If he were with her/
he’d grasp her fingers tightly/
and kiss her quiet.