Those are the days,
afternoons, the twilight beckoning a red sky,
it is the morning after,
while the children play, the people in their privacy
imagine a softer tone, a melody, a crystal montage,
cascades the mind with brilliance, enticing energy.
Walked outside today in an array of surreal,
the heat a fire on my skin,
the people nearby with an extra step,
all gloominess aside,
there is a rendezvous with beauty,
awaiting anyone across any avenue.
I would stand the heat,
play with the magical sense of this mystique,
turns heads, allows fantasy, creates
I would stand upon the highest ridge,
to only proclaim the beauty of this
I would give her my heart, my soul
already being cradled inside the mystery of time.
Oh to know the response her sweet manner
will give the world around,
when in quiet repose,
she does dance elegant
letting the rays of heat’s sensuality
light her center on fire.
Age a constant.
Oh the glance of beauty
Quiet lives decide upon
Memory surreal, eyes closed
A gasp will reconcile a caution
Certain agonies – societal flaws.
Weather skylines seduce serenity
Places we traveled find new solace
She looked away – follow design
An occasional glance may
Produce a nostalgic cry.
Sweet memory remain
I look everywhere,
Will love find an emphatic listener
One whose compassionate ear apparent.
Will love know that eyes tenacious assure
A beheld classic character lives current.
When far beyond initial giddiness,
Two lovers begin a slow resonate
Sojourn drawn with a climactic oneness.
Such that a skeptic eye knows not innate.
Thunderstorms and slow spring showers alert
Their kindred hearts to woo romantic tears.
The sadness of onlookers left inert
To their passion of which the two know fears.
Yet while eternal fire ignite release
Hers, a magical mystique be his peace
When sometime a day suspend imagination,
We do encounter some spiritual reckoning,
If an allowance, if desire, if even trepidation
Exists – create a passionate heart string.
We all do in life know limits suggest a listen
A tantalizing tool toward traveling light,
Calls upon sweet eyes that sometime glisten
When we come face to face with the night.
In a spectacular glance beyond sure normalcy
Lies certain beauty, perhaps life’s embrace
Grants an assurance God wonders diplomacy,
In so fragile our omniscience, gentle Grace.
Oh to scream the infallibility of love’s guidance,
Oh somber is the gentile nature of sweet chance.
* Photo found on Pinterest
Please play REM’s ‘Everybody Hurts’ in the background.
I have recall,
quiet moments befall
me in a vulnerable state of mind,
in the moments that do remind
my soul to ache with remarkable fire,
the source of which her heart is desire.
In sweet solace,
a marble palace
exists to hold strong eternal
memory in a privacy internal
surely the elegance of her imagination
alive with strength, a sublime emotion.
In certain pleasure
would I only treasure
her grace in manner to compel
me the mystique a delicious spell
overwhelming and surely forgotten
By such that would be left forsaken.
Yet dance a quiet serenade of repose
would I if could sweet privacy expose.
I would wonder,
with a brief glance,
a quiet fantasy while alongside
the foundation remained secure,
pillars of routine
everyone around each other
frozen in time.
Yet your water, the soul of desire
an essence in fragrant bloom,
we might imagine passion,
waiting for her eyes,
cascades the afterthought,
too far to touch in human form,
yet beautiful in every manner.
Take me for a walk with you,
let me inside, I want to know the shape
of your own need,
something later on called a fantasy.
Can I be included,
I will swim to you
a smile, then eyes,
we may never be able to reach,
yet the exhilarating notion of
that might satisfy any
out seeking Nature,
the beauty of her.
Live alive in society a fluid motion
Our artistry as human often a notion
What we imagine to be
simplistic form beyond the scope
of the human condition.
When little we imagine
beauty inherent in effort
while we seek ideal
We cannot overlook that
Grace she will carry with her in
any movement, any shadow.
Why then do we demand,
delight, desire, derive our own …
such satisfaction diminish.
Hers is a remarkable peace whose essence
in body such mystique breathes innocence.
Photographer – Allen Parseghian
Dancer / Model – Svetlana Bednenko