Love is not a flower in first bloom,
the right coloured piece of clothing,
the way they look – or the way they look at you,

Love is not the way they do this or that,
the waves crashing on the sand,
the feel of the sun on your face,
the cool trace of a tear,

It is none of those things.

Love is that the flower exists,
that it can be,
that it can blossom for the first time.

Love is that you can wear the clothing,
that you have a body you can put them on,
that they slide and twist and move across your skin.

Love is that they can look a certain way,
that you can see them,
that they can be seen,
that you can be seen.

Love is that they do this or that,
that they can,
that they do.

Love is the waves and the sand,
the waves that you can see and fell and hear,
hold in your hand, but only for an instant,
the sand that you can hold in your hand,
or slowly let fall,
that comes from something so strong,
but can be pushed by the slightest breeze.

Love is the sun,
the invisible,
the intangible,
the insubstantial,
that you can feel but can’t hold,
that nourishes you,
that gives you joy, bliss,
that feeds you,
that travels everywhere but
is only revealed at it’s destination,
that is the fastest thing,
yet time stops when it arrives.

Love is the tear,
the sorrow and pain that could only be there after love,
because of love,
that you can feel the slightest breeze,
or the drying of your skin,
that you are aware of you,
your body, your skin, your tears,
your love.

Bret Mann 2008

T’ was like at first, so similar yet so much to learn,
A passion second, unrealized but always present,
Years go by and the passion never wavered,
Place, relations, time, always a spark in the eye but never quite right, never the moment for the fire to realize,
Will there ever be a moment, I ask myself, why was there never a moment I ask you, while our words are masks, our eyes connecting our souls know the answer;
It was always the moment,
It is the moment, it will always be the moment, when we leave the masks aside and soul to soul, that will be the moment…

Bret Mann 2018

the years go by …

the highs and lows
and the friendship Never goes
The years go by.

Teas and beers and bending ears
The years go by.

Laughs and gaffs and cries and sad eyes and drippy snotty nose
The years go by,

Gins and bins and babes and chick~ins
The years go by,

Dresses and presses and songs and stresses, meetings and eatings and changes and greetings
The years go by,

Tries and flies and sparkles in eyes the years go by,

What will the years hold I ask, what will be the next task?
I know, for me, at the very end, I will be so happy to have had you as a friend,
As the years went by…

Bret Mann