I stood outside last night,
waiting for a show,
though, as I stepped through a summer,
I couldn’t help but notice,
the brilliant amber on a night sky,
the leaves and forest and wonder about me,
all glistened in the moon’s mystique.
I knew the show would be out of my hands,
or perhaps the script rewritten,
for now, I imagined the sheer beauty of nightfall,
offered under a natural streaming light,
one that brought me to a different place,
like any such dabbling in nature light,
is meant to do.
I thought of her in this surreal setting,
and I wondered,
I wished, I hoped, I prayed,
the energy I felt might be compelled,
by the sweet nature of her.
I looked at the moon tonight,
I wished it were described
through her eyes,
so that only I could understand,
what it is she was looking for.
I would like to imagine passion,
like the lunar magic in a holistic pattern,
all of us drawn,
well especially her and me,
by the mystique of the moon.
I stayed inside then
the remainder of the night,
I knew the stars were there,
under the moon light,
we could all pretend we were
I listened to the blues,
wondered about certain energy,
hoped I might be alright,
to have this tendency,
to want to understand,
and get it.
Under the light of the moon,
Sang the blues in a quiet swoon.
Consider shadows in stealth street lit form,
their evident stance, posture, motion seen
we are all habitual,
all players in a scheme.
The physical traits of our realities easily found
on a calm summer night, an evening walk.
Yet it is the surreal nature of a moonlit stroll,
that place in our dreams offers a mystique
whereby candlelights and cobblestone combine,
the breeze is always like an autumn rain,
the shadows belong to the romantics
who decide their lives are better in natural light.
There is this wood I remember,
not too distant from the city lights,
yet enough to allow starlit magic
to be a guide,
when love decide,
two hearts will travel inside their dream.
I wish to be there with you now,
forever never letting go,
so that when tears would rain,
my eyes would yours compel,
and we would our own shadows know.
sultry moonlit visuals
you, skin glazing in the night,
my hands playing with loose strands,
while you looked ahead,
knowing what I was yet to find,
stayed nearby me, letting me believe
this would be ok,
when my fingertips danced the taps
upon your shoulders,
head lean back with a smile,
using the feel of you to find your naked breast
cupped, with a smooth palm
while gasps break your smile,
the seduction of night shadows,
lighting up your eyes …
I will always remember,
in the twilight of a crisp fall evening,
when our own special love,
accentuates the warmth we might recall.
Sharp crisp sunlight, seeks some venue,
to entertain the eye.
She, delightful seductive sensuous gait,
allowing only a glance
a wisp as a breeze shudders skin
with sweet cool brilliance,
her body moves motion, wave of desire
perhaps unaware but assure
her now she is beautiful in the wind.
Hers is our brief glimpse.
When last the evening horizon looms
we imagine an ocean mist
shuddering our naked body with swift
current that alive nature speaks
a moon begins slow to caress the sky,
while she dances, alive
legs twirl, body arch to reach content
when we may view elegance
on a hot summer’s night in the sand,
Embrace we too soft the land.
We do have our dreams we live by
those moments we suspend,
a memory allows our return to then
a witness to sheer beauty
again. If were the world to pretend
grace’s passion, a lament
that tears the eye while wishing true
her eyes might see me there,
then certain the need to imagine wild
would only remain notion.
In search, while gales of summer do blow
in certainty her delight in love, I do know.