I went into my bed
my body told me I was tired
but sleep eluded me
my thoughts turned to you
I closed my eyes
and met you in the stars
bentfeather
I held night
saw it sparkle
twilight arrived with
your face carved
across my dawn
holding the essence of you
in my bones...
bentfeather
06.06.04
Setting the Stage
The Beggars Wind comes on cats paws,
and the year seems to race into the golden time.
Every tree will soon surrender to autumn’s laws,
and nature fits the world to her ancient rhyme.
Nights grow slowly clearer and mists are dearer,
and clouds race the moon across an ebon sky.
Nights are changing time becoming ever crisper,
and hints of gold and red highlight the leaves that die.
Trees rustle in near silent speech, to talk of passing time,
and wind song sings of things lost or gone beyond.
Seasons and life garbs itself in a new cloth of mime,
and we watch life’s new act upon our stage so fond.
In Appreciation
As soft as gossamer I caress her cheek
so as not to wake her from her sleep.
I watch her at rest, and see the things I seek,
and my heart surges forth in a lover’s leap.
Her rising breast rhythmically fills with airy life,
her cheeks flushed with a dream’s emotions sweet.
Her long lashes flicker in sleep, as dreams run rife,
and I watch them, passing across her face so fleet.
Her lips pout in some memory, and she smiles,
and I grin, for I know I was there to hold and share.
Her alabaster skin glows, her hair a golden pile,
and I lay silent and watch her, my living art, with care.