To The Beautiful, To The Lovely, And You.
Maybe there is something
that lurks behind
that old crystal moon.
Something like the
tender gold honey
of nights behind the
the dance floor.
Like the strum
of the banjo
in front of the fire
in the billiard room.
Something like the
love of glasses
crashing on the bedroom floor.
The very best moment
was beneath the winter moon
under the snowflakes
after midnight mass
on the European Continent
and the warmth of your hand
and your soft cold skin
and your smile
and your eyes
illuminated by the street light.
And all the houses
with lights out
and the sweet white flutter
of church bells
and snowflakes
and the breathing chimney tops
and you.
The very best moment
was climbing the hill
above the town
and looking ahead
with so far to climb
and the raw black dead road tar
and your long legs
and your bent back
your arch
and you.
And the very best of it all
the very best my heart has known
at the midnight of my love
was looking into the snowflakes
still
and with a way left to fall
down to the old town.
The delicate knocking of
the church bells
the delicate ‘I love you’
and the greed of it all.
There must be something
lurking behind that
old European moon.
Something that
gives itself
without a hope
to the beautiful, to the lovely, and you.
Whenever I hear
the roadway roar in the distance
or a river navigate its way south
or a young lady sigh
or anything,
anything,
I think of you.
Pipple
This is brilliant…when someone special touches your soul.
Lolo Lost replied
Thanks – it was a great time in my life.
Holly Ringland
the imagery in this is so tangible, i wanted to reach into this little screen and hold every single piece in my hands like precious marbles… like precious stones that remind me of moments gone by. gorgeous poetry that tugged and nudged all the edges of my heart.
Lolo Lost replied
Thank you for your lovely words.
CloudChaser
so very beautiful….perhaps words are not enough in this instance. cc xx