I share my sadness
convey to me your beauty
A blue moon empress
I share my sadness
convey to me your beauty
A blue moon empress
Feel this light of known
She looms patient in repose
Universal tone
All that remain,
these shadows
cast upon a soul
that spirit we feel
we reach and touch
when lost in love,
that is our safe zone
a remind,
a quiet walk
a stroll in summer time
continues through
the turning leaves
that autumn of our lives.
We remember,
have a quiet embrace
in the sweet solace
of our own
alone time.
Its moon moments
we learned to love
under the light
the midnight sun
shone upon our bleeding hearts
reminds us tears in our soul.
A quiet memory
nature is a splendor
memory attached
a quiet moon.
Sweet moisture
night dew
creates soft droplets
on an isolated bench.
We sat for hours
the cool feeling
on our naked thighs.
We laughed
hugged
smiled
kissed
felt our passion
light up in the night sky,
a hunter’s moon.
Last night in you
across a sky blue
she spoke to me
settled in upon a we.
This state of mind
is a quiet remind
when under her gaze
we did spend our days
turning toward night
feeling a constant might.
Yet out of reach
you did try to teach
me how to let go of the now,
how to realize just how
far we might go,
only this do I know.
Tonight I’m watching the moon
in her full radiance I will swoon
hoping only to wish.
We might again sense her wish.
I watch the moon
in a distant sky.
It’s an annual trek
in my not knowing why.
There’s a fire that burns
now I can’t tell you why
stoking it with yearns
I still can’t tell you why.
Because I love you
only makes you blue.
I wonder if you ever cry
the way you did with me.
I’d ask you why
wishing I had left you be.
~
© Scott F. Savage 6/2022
We stood inside this harmony
listening to a quiet Moon,
our hearts together some melody
we would only lose too soon.
~
One kind of love she would say,
meant to live only in fantasy.
One kind of life she would say,
meant without any scrutiny.
~
He would call out definition.
She would criticize it cryptic
his loss would be no solution
to a quiet moon for a skeptic.
~
Whenever I might again return
sort of memory driven and familiar
I’d always hope for and yearn
some reminder we’ve been together.
~
chorus
~
Under the moon, an autumn summer
Is where I belong in some forever
Under the moon, an autumn moon
©️ Scott F Savage 8/2021
Hers was always a silence that echoed surprise
one night leaving my world and in a picture
she did show me a rising moon, sudden in my eyes
the horizon before me, lovely to be sure.
~
I wonder if we might ever know serendipity
is truly a magical rollercoaster of emotion.
To feel her spell upon my own clarity
one would need to feel her every notion.
~
She was the moon rising before me on a summer night
Though we might be miles away we need to be okay
She is the moon rises before me on a summer night
~
She brought my soul to heaven, splendor in the night
I couldn’t hide my heartache for her sweet elegance,
She was the moon rising before me on a summer night
looked upon the sky I knew our lives were only chance.
~
She was the moon rising before me on a summer night
Though we might be miles away we need to be okay
She was the moon rising before me on a summer night
~
She is the moon rising in my eyes on a lovely summer night.
© Scott F Savage 7/2021
Can you remember when one time we forgot about who we were,
just went with,
just felt like the two of us,
all that minutia which wasn’t important at the time,
suddenly reared its ugly head,
and there we stood
in the quiet rain.
That (part) of our lives we didn’t wish to know
wouldn’t leave,
wouldn’t go away,
wouldn’t let us ever forget,
this time, next time, anytime
a notion of sensuality entered our mind,
we could only speak to the reality,
that piece of ourselves
we might never leave,
we would never leave,
we couldn’t no matter if we might create a fantasy,
that made us want to,
wish to
believe we could,
and yet,
sunrises and sunsets, full moons and the milky way,
we see them every night and day,
the rest of our lives.
Love.
© Scott F Savage 7/2021
Turning trauma into triumph since 1981.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
"I feel the rush of your love through my entirety and I know in this very moment of my existence this is where I belong" - The Creative Chic
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