You breathe warm on heaven's winter shoulder,
your subtle air
to flare my inspiration's muse,
like petal whispering dew to shadow.
I am dream, embracing halo,
my hollow well, to fill in sequins,
thoughts, as windy skin sigh, aching,
for what is word in wetter kisses.
We are seekers
to sing of glad things,
wilder hands caressing fabled fingers,
drawing breeze to captive leaves,
in curling sounds of ever after.
Sing my dancing flame to flicker,
fluttered stare
in stone wall canyon,
be my echo, coming home
in joyous yelp of new-born freedom;
for you are grace
in given grassland,
lying close to quill my fever,
your face of angel,
cloud to cultivate,
when morning rises billowed pillow,
waking rush beneath this willow.
In a list
A contest entry
- Expressing Your True Sensuality~ by poet2angels.
625 points, ended November 18, 2007, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
-
beautifully written...Such romantic thoughts woven into pieces of Season...This is so very lovely!
Lynda
-
"We are seekers
to sing of glad things,
wilder hands caressing fabled fingers,
drawing breeze to captive leaves,
in curling sounds of ever after."
Sighhh...Exquisite. Good luck in Lynda's contest, my dear Friend. 
Wanda
-
You are a visionary of Nature and all her innate love and graceful beauty. Tranquil verse that fills each empty space too long deprived of What comprises real beauty. Astounding read. Blue
-
What extraordinary vision and passion comes from glowing depths of you and your pen. Your echo coming home is winged in golden aura to blush the grace of an angel. She will love this!
~ So did I.
-
wow this was awsome
all i seen was images
your a wonderful poet
Adding your comment:
1 - 5 of 5
