love, Ruth Nineke

The Ordinary Fair

Post Published: October 30, 2022

I used to imagine that passion was

what I wanted most

A desperate tempest,

a thunderous and storming love,

Someone consumed

by their need for me,

an incurable lust

A fiery

deep down inside

burning, raging


whose severance simply

would never do

And then I grew up,

and I rejected every flickering

lick of drama,

Every hint of back and forth,

every ping pong

table top

match of emotional tennis

Let the others play their juvenile games

for attention

I wanted something more

than the ordinary fair,

something far stronger

than the usual,

youthful butterflies felt

in a co-ed daze of wild

nights, and trivial,

circling cycles of demented,

and drunken fights

I want the beauty that lays itself


And unashamed, in comfort

beside the truth

that tender hearts are very rare

and seldom ever

fully recover

Vulnerable in these moments,

aching through the elusive

pleasure of being nurtured

I have found

just the thing

I believe we all actually



peaceful and pure

A kind and demure gentleness

which appreciates in silence

and grows powerful with space

I have tasted the kiss of a lover

who’s waited,

who’s blessed me

and cleansed himself,

to feel serene in time’s passing

and without pressure

or manipulative asking,

had released in me a vision

brighter and crystalized,

So much better than wishful thinking

I have been graced a most perfect


a hunch confirmed

by the murmured confession

that the future is painted

with love

in spectacular color

and only through the layered

lining of one’s heart

with patient and steady faith

can we reach the place

and feel at home

March 13, 2020


Tell me what you think before we both die



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