For Mike
Dear skin and hands and all things sweet and pure
containing legends deep within the bone,
and holding old romance in their allure
pull me in dreams of you and me alone –
Alone in white rooms, fantasized by me;
alone in orphaned gardens, saved by you;
alone in white-washed castles by the sea;
alone in meadows pale and soaked in dew.
The beauty of your life is intricate
although you may not see its rambling grace;
you’re made of candlelight and fires lit
to warm the pallid shadows on my face.
My spirit flies to you and now I’m whole,
and sweetly, gently, I embrace your soul.
containing legends deep within the bone,
and holding old romance in their allure
pull me in dreams of you and me alone –
Alone in white rooms, fantasized by me;
alone in orphaned gardens, saved by you;
alone in white-washed castles by the sea;
alone in meadows pale and soaked in dew.
The beauty of your life is intricate
although you may not see its rambling grace;
you’re made of candlelight and fires lit
to warm the pallid shadows on my face.
My spirit flies to you and now I’m whole,
and sweetly, gently, I embrace your soul.
Truly lovely. You have a genuine poetic gift.
ReplyDeleteSweet, and pure, and lovely--just like your soul!
ReplyDeleteThank you both so much; it makes my heart warm to hear it! <3 xoxoxoxo
ReplyDelete