Last dance of Summer

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Earth tilts the skirt of sky
very becoming rotation
set with planet jewels in motion upon this hem of horizon
Twilight waltz, spun senses behold a turning gait
she waxes a change, a future harvest moon
revealing swoon fills upon the breast of sky
your patient tide strolls, gliding touch to an emblazoned night
her skirt entices a memory aquamarine blushing rhythmically
At the center of sky daylight paints away
Moon becomes her own memory
sapphires wink gems of stars, as always, always you take her timeless
earth begins enfolding softly the skirt of sky, to a season of seed
Dance upon this evening sky
holding her vesper chant, her curves becoming full
her hint of Fall whispering
when moon remembers this tilting dance
of earths longing hold
released ever so slowly
from the long dance of summer

 

 

Midsummer Night

 

Opaline evening, under an infinite sigh. Selene goddess spills her spell, flowing serene dusting of luminescence. when under her still heart, this body lifts, pulled by her wish, then surrenders beside her silence. Murmur silent, murmurs beckoning this midsummer nights dream.

A memory bleeds an invisible colour, a ribbon yards long, changing like chameleon scales a memory of hues. These fingers laced in another’s fingers, hands hold a slender pole clearly carved, stream of ribbon tied upon the tip held together. We are waving this vast stream ribboning night, creates a strumming, mellow like lips held together, a ripple of a deep whistle.

Then return under an infinite sigh of nocturnal moon, spills her spell, such a serene opaline lucent space between. it is the nocturnal hawk that weaves this night,a crespucular murmur strums unseen, inviting pouring full this spell. A colourful ribbon woven through moonlight.
For when under her glowing disk, this body pulled skyward. Moon goddess becoming, full murmur silent, murmur whispering this midsummer nights dream. For tomorrow will be longer in daylight waiting for evening, surrendering below an opaline moon.

6 – 21 – 2013.                                       image

 

 

 

 

 

Cage of a Moonless night

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           Only period of a day on earth which frees a soul,
 stimulated under a moonless purple sky.
           From all corners of being or should I say the curves of a face,
 the vesper of a cooler breeze letting you know you’re inhabiting a body.
          Although always the eyes,
 a crease furrows down the face keeping a pulse.
          It is so quiet, a nonhuman stillness,
 one that unlocks the prison of a scorching day.
          Even is even as day flatlines to an evening which frees a soul.
 It is upon your eyes, within this sepal opening voiceless,
 here tiny motes of light dance.
          Always the eyes, always the earth,                                                                                                                        always are we caught in these cycles,                                                                                                                        beholding the sky of stars under a moonless evening.                                                                                                             Wish making in the falling stars in your eyes.

8 – 16 – 14 

 

Were we uncommon

Are you watching the stars.
Are you under the covers warm with the light that bends around this earth.
Which touches the disk in the sky, called by many names through the earliest of eyes, which gazed then bathed their cool body under a river of a silver sliver of opalescent moon.

Taken; you lay, held wordless as this crescent grew to a fullness,  then hungrily waning away, a thirst to follow a rhythm of changes.

Are you watching the stars. Forever never changes, an orb that becomes change. Consistent desired primal and true. Carnal peace a stone that fits upon the body flows .
Phosphor light filling a rhythm.
Were not for the winged iridescent curious creatures born absorbed with the celestial colour.                                           Were this not my body that painted from a moons glow, were this not a memory, where from a wind carried thought through an evenings vesper.

Would not my piece of being fit so well into your wish so perfectly. That we would be as once, no one living today uncommonly remembers .

10 – 9 – 13

For not this night

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                Withdrawn nested twilight evening. Moon leads her path away, leaving this night inking evening pure. Obsidian nights as a flower unfolds, a hand touches someone starring through. Petals so opaque caressing this complaint, darkened hum chorused.
                 Is this strum strum of a melodious hum of ancient songs learned from these stars. All in my head this night shrouds a purity of vastness. This sentient diagram, geometry of symbols distilled. For it is a capsule, a medicine taken. 
For these stars, drawn within this nest from a moonless night. My heart shines like an obsidian shard. This flower tills a gaze with distant suns. A finger untwines, expires becoming timeless.
                 For not these nights moonless, for not an echo passed into the drone so dark in a night like a heart beat of another ancient song.
                 For not this night’s delirious intoxication, would I not be wild .

4 – 23 – 14

 

Harmony

Harmony

This is all in our memories
our bodies mutable and real
Coax it out of me
call the stars settling their dust upon this earth
To be melded with our flesh there,
many memories are blended
Cocoon, our seed dormant
till evocation of two meet
Pluck a cosmic harmonic
just as simple, being in our bodies
vibrating as one within earth
Rekindle the old ways
Kindred with a distant star
kindred in a whisper
kindred in the wind
Within this spin of earth
lucid a thought, where distance becomes constellations
here beside both places at once
map of memory pulled within another
go to that secret place, where
a thousand stars hold you upon their sand
adorned cocoon coaxed from sleep

7 – 29 – 2014image

Elysium sky

 

 

               Sweet to your lips , the nectar of the stars for we are in our bodies because of earthy souls that gaze into a reflective pool higher than the veil of day to pierce to the stars, till evening rest upon our weary bones and we take these stars as sweet nectar filling in what modern distraction has eroded away.

               Every moment beneath a sheltering tree, swaying count of a breeze that comes from a faraway canopy. A stream has a beginning branching forth roiling under aquamarine skies. Eyes close to an inward gusty sense once forgotten, while the face side of dream cools. As right as the tepid breeze touches the other side of knowing .

              Share a clue to the scent of longing like a sky without a moon for awhile, shows itself with the turning of earth.
Moth come fly in my light. Your wings pulse with the shimmering stars.
Pick a reflection of a star from your wings and place it inside your thought then sip the nectar of my love.

 

   9 – 4 – 13