as the soft bird
You were on my mind…
As i was awakened
By the flickering daylight
shimmering through the curtains
You were in my thoughts
i imagined lifting the sheets up
to allow for you to slide under
next to me, w
I found myself flat on my back on Saturday night, awed.
Grass in the curls of my hair. To my left, like ghost breath, a pall of sage-scented smoke carried silent offerings into the immaculate expanse…
Within the sunbeams of the early evenings…
sparkling sounds of the miestro’s violin pirouettes
upon the refractions of dancing stars,
flowing along the waters of Venice,
For when you have this melting feeling
you will feel the warmth ,radiating
from my heart to yours.
You are my candle within the wind
Oh’ my darling i see you with a quill…between your delicate fingers.
I feel the movement of your viensas you push the quill back and forth
with your sensuous touch.My eyes ache to read for which you
I was walking over the Lakeland fells.
(I suppose I had been that way before
But never, I think, at spring lambing-time).
The grass pullulated with new life and,
As our souls
with the spirituality
of pure love.
here crawls one on
bandaged stumps, a wooden
block in either hand
against wearing out
hands as well as
He reminds me of bubbling butter.
Great yellow majesty:
he is like a king.
as i sat down ,perspiring profusely
the chilled spray ,from the falls
imeadiately cooled me down.
As i wiped my brow
I were so very patient as…
i slowely ran my toes along
then your hip,slowely tickling
you along your thigh
across your knee
then your calfyou felt like a second skin
i knew from these inti
the city sleeps.
sin rises like a dirty
vapour from off the crazed
and permeates the darkness
You smiled within my heart
i could feel your very pulse,
running gently along my viens
you reached my heart .
sadness and regret
like dirty grey
snow upon the stiffening
and every thought eases effortlessly
out of pink clouds with silver shivers
of ecstatic joy in the free creativity
of wild, holy beauty;
one large tear about to roll along your cheek
a tear of love fell from my tear duct and landed
upon your tear,
the ragged girl
walks up the steps
theatre with dirt-stained
feet, her bare
on the stone
like the slap of wet
briefly she listens at the
crack; then, hearing only muffled …