~The Dragon Flies' Lair~ VIII

January 29, 2004 | bentfeather, Poets of The Dragon Flies' Lair

[Soaring Feather]

That warm afternoon lace seemed just the texture over the white gauze dress,
it was just the least bit tempting,
of course, I knew that
I was not aware you were watching me
through the screen as I sipped my tonic
I was dreaming about shady beaches,
tall tanned men....
Suddenly I looked up you stood there
drinking me in with your eyes
you stopped my breath
Your eyes with a soft wishing expression
invited me with a nod to join you under the elms...
by the river bank
with soft songs in the breeze I waited for your next move to a magical mirage
We stopped the day
danced til twilight
kissed the dawn
froze the night
We stopped time for a brief moment

bentfeather

[Old Sarge]

All the ballroom watches,
and they cannot know
the love I'm making to you now!

The world around me spins, a blur
of colors I care nothing for.
The music changed, the artists strike
up a new sound,
and we sweep across the floor
to the gallery by the door,
bathed in lights from the hall.

My mind, my whole awareness lost
in the gentle washing power
of our first kiss,
that stole my wits
my alert senses
honed in combat

but no training matches
the stealth of this that grips me.

I tremble, I shudder,
this power you wield! What is it?
And here you are, within my arms again,
are you searching
my eyes, my soul tonight?
Oh, find your answers here!

I can bear no more
I take your chin with thumb and finger,
tracing your loveliness,
the answer is there,
and we close our eyes again...

no sound
no thought
her mouth is on mine
stealing my reason
fly away, cares
she kisses me
oh don't let it end
her hands on my waist
she's kissing my soul...

...and we move apart
the music returns
the ball goes on

[Colonel_Flagg]

Ah, snippy, ever the optimist :)

[snippy_about_it]

LOL. I try. It isn't easy believe me!

[Colonel_Flagg]

At least you are well enough to dance!

We're just sitting here in awe. :)

[Colonel_Flagg]

Especially with me, I realize. But thank you for trying :

[Soaring Feather]

I am your Jezebel
I am your gem
I will dance you to the highest heights
take you on moon lite night flights
I will set your soul on fire
and dance you to romance
on the patio of stars
between Jupiter and Mars
and ride the mighty winds with you
I am your Jezebel, I am your gem
we were two... forged to one
under the moon and stars
we are one
I am your Jezebel
I am your gem.

bentfeather
01/30/04

[Soaring Feather]

Just a whole lot of listening to my Barry White. :-)

[snippy_about_it]

Shame on you. That's just not so. You're teasing now. :-)

I meant it was difficult with life in general. Being an optimist is certainly a struggle these days isn't it?

[Colonel_Flagg]

You know, I only have a few of his songs and I know you're a fan. My artist for "dramatic renewal of purpose" is probably Russell Watson. But yours is equally as good!

[Colonel_Flagg]

You're more right than you might realize. I do tease a lot but generally speaking, the object of my humor is myself. I find it safer and I don't offend nearly as many people that way ;)

[Soaring Feather]

You offered me tea
not my cup
but I accepted
your eyes fixed
beyond me
cold, frozen
Why did you ask me in?

bentfeather
2003

---

Was she as alabaster
white and cold
with a reflecting pool
as her public persona
coveting a mirrored
observatory
more than the privacy
of a recluse
whose common
currency is reduced
to the quality of pyrite

bentfeather
2003

[Old Sarge]

Just a whole lot of listening to my Barry White.

Oh, really??

Then, I'll just dance with Cyd Charrisse...

[Soaring Feather]

You introduced yourself
one afternoon with passing
my cottage at the beach
we had a mutual friend
sort of a common bond
really, only an acquaintance
would introduce
and sinners don't always
welcome a common course.

Why did you close the door
on tomorrow?

bentfeather
2003

[Soaring Feather]

LOL!! But Sarge, is she a poet???

[Old Sarge]

Was she as alabaster
white and cold
with a reflecting pool
as her public persona

She was all these things
and less, and more.

She was bone china,
music box voice and
tight-lipped control.

Museum piece
and china-case quality
never to be handled or shared.

You are life,
alive and supple
movement and song
in motion or still.

Soaring song to raise me
beyond the trammels of
a ruined love,
a wreck of hope.

Yes, you are all
and more to me,
my skaldi, my muse

and, dare I whisper to your heart?

...my love.

[Old Sarge]

For whatever she was, she was a hoofer!

[Old Sarge]

Why did you close the door on tomorrow?

Tomorrow?
Tomorrow is that which I hope to see
but not alone - see it with you
at your cottage by the sea,
memories of the ball fresh on my mind
the droning surf a different tune
which, I think, could
still be silenced by
your kiss.

[Old Sarge]

Well looks like everyone's tuckered out.

[Soaring Feather]

I'm here lurking for a while.

I'm taking a break Sarge. I'll be around. Just now I have to go over the edits for the newsletter, final edit and it's off my desk tomorrow.

I produce this for a club I am a member of.

Don't throw in the towel yet. :-)

If I get a second wind we can do some more writing.