The Next Time I Make Love

The next time I make love
I will take my time
I will not drink it down quickly
but will savor it like a rare vintage wine
like the chosen words of a rhyme

The next time I make love
I want to feel love
coursing through my heart
and pulsating through my veins
I want to be sure that love reigns

The next time I kiss
I want the feeling to be tender and sweet
I want to inhale her softness as lips meet
a shared and magic moment that will feel complete
as we linger there while our hearts beat

The next time I hold a gentle hand in mine
I want to feel each muscle and tendon qiver
and then recline
as we close our eyes and entwine
in solitude as we lose track of time

The next time someone sings a song to me
I want to shut the rest of the world and feel free
I want to hear the magic and passion in the melody
and watch the care in her face and realize
that she is singing for joy as well as for me

The next time I feel a soft loving embrace
I want to hold on tight and close my eyes
then sneak them open again
to see the beauty of her face
and then melt into her soft grace

The next time I make love
it will be because of love
and not becuase of lust
becuase love does last longer
and lust freezes eventually or turns to rust

The next time I make love
It will be a celebration of care
so happy to have someone really there
who also needs affection and loves to share
knowing lovers true, are few and rare

The next time I make love
I hope to treat the moment as if it's my last
I'll redeem the heartbreak of the past
and I'll whisper a prayer that it will last
because life is short and goes by so fast

The next time I make love
I hope to take things slow
So that love and passion grow
All pent up feelings will blossom and grow
Certain that love is underneath each tender ebb and flow


Comments (3)

Although in former times this sonnet was almost universally read as a paean to ideal and eternal love, with which all readers could easily identify, adding their own dream of perfection to what they found within it, modern criticism makes it possible to look beneath the idealism and to see some hints of a world which is perhaps slightly more disturbed than the poet pretends. In the first place it is important to see that the sonnet belongs in this place, sandwiched between three which discuss the philosophical question of how love deceives both eye and mind and judgement, and is then followed by four others which attempt to excuse the poet's own unfaithfulness and betrayal of the beloved. Set in such a context it does of course make it appear even more like a battered sea-mark which nevetheless rises above the waves of destruction, for it confronts all the vicissitudes that have afflicted the course of the love described in these sonnets, and declares that, in the final analysis, they are of no account.
In addition, despite the idealism, there is an undercurrent of subversion which permeates all. It is ironic that a poem as famous as this should be seized on by the establishment as a declaration of their view of what love should be. Does the establishment view take account of the fact that this is a love poem written by a man to another man, and that the one impediment to their marriage is precisely that, for no church of the time, or scarcely even today, permits a man to marry a man? It is useless to object that Shakespeare is here talking of the marriage of true minds, for the language inevitably draws us to the Christain marriage service and its accompanying ceremonies, and that is a ceremony designed specifically to marry two people, not two abstract Platonic ideals which have decided to be wed. It is almost as if the exclamation 'Oh No! ' in the second quatrain is a recognition of this one great impediment that overhangs all others 'and all alone stands hugely politic'. (SB notes that the exclamation presents, among other things, 'a logically incidental example of a suitable prefatory exclamation introducing an impediment volunteered by a parishioner responding to the injunction in the marriage service') . www
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