Sipping a Plight

So much to do, with so little time—
I wish I was on Venus, tasting its wine.
The heaving and hoeing of daily strife
becomes a drain on all but your light.

Wishing you were near, wishing you were here,
a shoulder to cry on, to share my fear.
Howling out my plight into the night,
the echo returns, yet you’re out of sight.

A tug of war that reaches my heart,
restraints pulled tight, torn apart.
The emotional upheaval of life’s demands
stretches me thin, like grains through hands.

I wish you were here to share my plight,
to hold my worries, to make things right.
For what is a fight if it’s fought alone,
when all I crave is your warmth, your tone?

The haze of the future, shrouded in gray,
persistence of worry consumes my day.
A wanting need that never subsides,
a longing that crashes like relentless tides.

I wish to escape to a world unknown,
to sit with you on Venus, far from home.
The stars above, the wine so sweet,
our laughter and sighs where the heavens meet.

But instead, I’m here, bound to this plight,
pulling through days that bleed into night.
Yet in my mind, we’re sipping wine,
on distant shores where our souls align.

The outcome for me, in this moment so grim,
is to dream of Venus, beyond the world’s rim.
To drink your laughter, to taste your kiss,
to find in your presence that long-lost bliss.

So here I sit, beneath earthly skies,
yearning for the escape your love implies.
For in your arms, I would find my light—
a place to rest, away from the fight.