I asked the old speaking stones,
where my love has gone.
They laughed, exposing their fungus and moss,
as love scars too.
I asked the subtle dimness by the magic hill,
why I can't find my love.
With a melancholic smile environing me,
threw condensed water particles to my long time tears.
The Avalonian angels come to me,
old making love rites expressing the feminine,
and dragging me to the sacred.
If I heard those angels making love with the stones,
embraced by that lovely mist,
why I can't love?
What did you think
Comments
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Very good work here
Oh we feel and see the magic around us and within us yet often are lost to how to express it to others in order to get that love back . Bravo on this work indeed
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wow.
This is perfect.
I love it.
Well done on a great write!
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I like the 3 stanza.Love poems aren't my favorite.But I enjoyed reading this.Unfortunately love isn't for everybody.But I believe we all can love...Vivid,interesting imagery too.
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wow..
this is a very mature write.. must say pretty good!!
the imagnation is very good and says the reality .. awesum!
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