Lust hastens in enticing your innocent heart with grandiose plans of a lifetime to spend in one another’s arms. Advertisements
Dawn’s pink rising on the horizon as you stir in our bed I turn and trace the tattoo long graceful fingers fluttering and dancing down to your core of heat as you stumble from sleep shaking the fog from the long night quaking and…
There within fertile soil grows the tender shoots of crimson beets, earthy sweet and frilly carrot tops creeping down into the ground with tangled roots establishing their place until such times as they’re picked and land on the dinner plate.
He, once her lover, shattered all illusions of faith, stabbing her with the brevity of harsh words spewing from his forked tongue, and an utter lack of remorse on his handsome face.
“I am liberated back into the fragility of childhood.”– Jim Harrison She was a different sort of child, spending carefree days dancing alone in dappled sunshine red-golden curls bouncing as she sang silly made up songs.
Nature’s nocturne wafts in the evening zephyr heralding the night as crickets sing in harmony with cicadas rhapsody begging love to come hither.
Love rode in on a cold winter’s wind and stayed through the months of spring, but once the honey moon waxed and waned, love knew it was time to move on again.
Discovered in the air lilting music on a summer breeze hints of Bach and blues, with prismatic hues of a ripened golden pear, orange, and green.
Yesterday I heard you singing sotto voce in the summer breeze a melody of anguished longing to be shed of earth, to be flying free.
“Spring Day, too loud for talk when bones tire of their flesh and want something better.”- Jim Harrison Into the woods where dappled sunlight dances on verdant forest floor Here, no heavy flesh, but hollow bones and feathers for this is where spirit soars.
“The cost of flight is landing.”– Jim Harrison Love soars in on the wings of the fleet-footed god, making paupers of rich kings A petty thief, stealing as it sings, tugging at heart-strings with no thought of pain or peril.
“Fear makes for Good Servants and bravery is fraudulent.”- Jim Harrison Fear came calling in the mirror Another wrinkle, another line, soon you’ll know the taste of death and how it is to be free of me.