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Click hereI don’t aspire to anything
other than desire
spend the evening with you
beside a dying fire,
Counting all the stars
listening to the breeze
watching you near
arms around your knees,
On this spinning rock
somewhere deep in space
the last of the flame
flickering on your face,
Wondering who brought us here
the space-time spectrum
a universe of aliens?
but can we detect them,
Or is it just us
it seems so, right here
each dot of light
to cherish, or to fear,
Climb into our sleeping bag
pressed skin to skin
waiting for the future
to once again begin …
Rhyming can fall apart and feel forced as a poem progresses. You, however, saved the best for last. Your last four lines are a knockout-punch. Bravo.