Hearing Your Name
Translucence of eyes
speaks to my soul,
a poem of light
curves of my need,
quiet grace
coy smiles and glances,
simmering lips
dew kissed morn.
Echoes
of butterscotch moon
I see you
dazzling star night.
Your flame kindles
my burning desire
intrigue arousing
strength of my loins.
Perfume engraved
permeating my mind,
gleaming ebony hair
your sensual disguise.
Drawn to your words,
hearing paradise,
needing to devour
splinters of time.
Soft caresses
lost in longing,
engraved in the heart
of deep shallow wells.
Quenching my thirst
pools of emotion,
cradled in enveloping peace,
overcome with shivers
when I hear your name.
The moon
The moon shone bright
On this quiet winter night
It was cold and breezy
But then I saw your figure standing there in the dark
Sitting on a swing in the park
I decided to walk over to you
I asked you if you were cold
You said no but I could tell you really were,
So I wrapped my jacket around you anyways
We sat there for hours
Talking about anything and everything
Our feelings, our stories, our favorite foods
It was like a dream come true
And I'm pretty sure that's when I really knew,
That I loved you
And because of that quiet winter night,
We became something beautiful
Like the stars in the night sky.
sleeping under the stars
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Dawn fades; planets, stars, satellites appear,
Darkness, contrast to constellations,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Vast, limitless, unending space above,
Cicadas call, wind gently whisp,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Rustling leaves breaks my trance,
Orions belt will protect,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Oh, a shooting star!
Cool air blankets my exposed skin,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
the moon shone lightly down on their faces, hands entwined, and bodies close, wishing to be closer. their conversation dwindled, and soon she found herself longing for a quiet place where they could talk more deeply, and he thought the same, yet both were too afraid to speak. for they both longed intimacy-but not of the kind that was 1 a.m. at night, sneakily wandering into a house and linking bodies closer. no, they wanted a deeper connection-she wanted to know his soul. the deep dark depths of his mind where nobody else had been....he wanted to give her the dark depths. and they learned the beauty of a soul.
The Moon is my Only Friend
They listen, the quiet room almost oppressive in its darkness. They wait, breath fogging in front of their mouth, stuttering slightly from the cold. Soon it won’t be cold any longer, this night one they dread every month because it means being locked in this room.
On the far wall is a window, high up under the ceiling, the moon shining her light between the bars. They take a deep breath, steeling themselves for what’s to come. Oh how they wish to be free, the break out of this room and run!
They change, the animal inside tearing through the restraints of their body to howl forlornly to the empty room. One day they will be free, one day they will feel the dirt beneath their paws. Tonight all they feel is cold concrete, the darkness keeping them shrouded, hidden away from the world outside.
Its so lonely.
The Quiet of the City
I incline my head,
the breeze tickling my throat.
My fingers dance across the park bench,
catching on brambles in the wood.
I listen to the whisper and whine,
The screams and shouts of the City.
There are people dancing and singing.
The moon kissing their shoulders,
shining it’s gratitude.
The buildings twinkle in the night,
as if in response.
A dog barks across the street,
his tail wags and twirls beneath his feet.
I close my eyes,
the sounds washing over me as a wave.
The City is nothing but loud and boisterous,
but to me the sound calms.
The quiet of the City is nothing at all.
Rather the quiet of the City is a symphony,
a symphony of lives coming together,
each a different key.
His brother’s tree
He's lying in bed in the dark, taking in the ambient sounds of a another day passed. Crickets outside sing to him, the house subtly creeks and groans as it settles. The stillness is calming, a quiet he doesn't believe he'd ever take for granted. He turns to his window to see a soft light briefly pass through his thin curtains. He gets up and makes his way outside.
He's in his backyard now, barefoot on the soft grass. He looks up and a star filled night sky looks down. He takes in the sight, his gaze gratefully roves across the starlit heavens. Another wave of calm washes over him. He makes his way to the front yard. He stands by his older brother's dogwood tree and looks up again. The last remnants of clouds flow by and give way to the white light of the moon that gently covers the earth.
He closes his eyes and imagines himself floating away. He turns to look down on the house and yard and everything else aglow from the celestial body. He sees himself, and he cries and prays for peace for the boy standing next to his brother's tree.