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A Lover's GemFor you my heart always yearns,
like a burning amethyst deep within.
You're the jewel kindling in my eyes,
revealing oracles of true love again.

Among your light chestnut skin,
my soul embraces your luring smile.
Breaking every faint touch of doubt,
I drift in your essence for a while.

You're the sensuous oriental breath
that keeps me warm in the night.
You're the vibrant gleaming star
that helps me through life's flight.

You're the sweetest taste of rain
that one could ever hope to see.
You're that exclusive kind of gem
that means all the world to me.

Distant AdmirersWe stare at each other
through a crystal screen,
eyes set in a yearning gaze.
And in the solemn hour
we relentlessly dream,
imagining that very day...

When we finally meet
in an authentic embrace,
finding each other's heart.
In the midst of a kiss
with a honeysuckle taste,
never wandering apart.

But until the time arrives
to break past the blue,
we'll continue to dream.
Forever pondering o'er
the presence of you
beyond the crystal screen.

Festivals of LifeI remember those summer nights
when we danced like mirthful angels
under the clear, starry skies
that expanded across the land.

And the colors burned so bright
like an ancient tribal fire.
Skirts swayed in the glory light
with lipstick shades of red.

And I could hear the wolves cry
like a melody in the distance.
The taste of mild salsa spice
lingered forever on my tongue.

And I will never forget those nights
when the wild world around us
was nothing but a beautiful sight
under a lantern-lit ocean.

PaletteThe painted lady stands,
watercoloured
and waiting for a cab.

*Skeleton Leaf*Skeletons in garden rubbish
Hard to believe they did flourish
Fallen leaves, surrounding trees
Gentle patterns blown in breeze.

Delicate vision of lacy leaf
Looked in amazment, disbelief
Beautiful, belonging to yesteryear
Nature at work, have no fear.

Time to lite, clear the ground
Smoke filled eyes as flames abound
Nature's magic has come full circle
'Till spring appears, thinking Myrtle.

2013 Delice1941
9th February2013

SerenissimaSlumbering suns
take a midmorning nap;
alleyways bright with
golden ladies,

their smiles canal-deep.
Nightfall brings guides:
stone sighs and dead light,
(never so alive).

The WindblownLike a sparrow, you perch; toes curled and brown eyes wide, arms tinted blue with cold. In my haste to reach you I trip upon your shoes, tiny little things still drizzle-damp and abandoned at the door.

"What are you doing?!"

Your legs stretch for summers as you stand, dress billowing from you like a white flag of surrender.

"Ava, come inside. Come inside. Please."

You stare past my outstretched hands and step away—a sparrow, caught in a downdraft.

I, ApostropheLabel me the apostrophe.
Providing union prophecies
and communion plays
to quench your exotic fixations
of fidelity.
Coaxing your child-caliber -
out
through coated girth and doubt.
Naming off syllables of sitcoms
till re-runs act as lungs -
breathing mediocrity as genius
and sewing smiles securely to your lips.

Undoubtedly, the quill tip sips
the prayers you pray for me
because no man's sonnet reeks or bleeds
such as this nomad's need.

Ignorantly, my bliss poises your beauty
and admits that I -
am your sole apostrophe.

hope is in all of us.i want to shed this snake skin
over and over until
i am raw, and new, and alive again.

i want to sew my eyes shut
and be blind until
there is something worth seeing.

i want to hibernate through this era
and stay asleep until
the next ice age comes
and the slate of this planet
has been wiped clean,

i want to begin again,
i want to change,
i want to transform into something
that can survive her own mind.

i want to escape,
i want to run away,
i want to create something new.

i want to be found in every lonely soul-mate,
in every last goodbye,
in every broken home,
in every single person,
under 'new-found hope.'

staticthey say
you can get addicted to a certain type of sadness.

the type that makes your lungs ache
the type that makes your heart gasp.

tracing your name methodically
across my fog-breath showerglass,
breathing the steam out of
sore lungs, so baleful and so crass
how can so much pain
feel so good
i press my palms and wonder
dreaming crisscross lines smoothly aligned
i duck and shuffle under

they say
you can get addicted to a certain type of sadness.

the type that fills a soggy heart
sitting on a lonely mattress.
the type that feels alone in a crowd.
abandonment that screams so loud.

the type that's
shuddery static
breathing on summer ster

Wildflowers, Imperfect BirdsI breathed your name like wildflowers under vast broken skies, in wide-open spaces. The wind blowing through them spoke of dew and dirt and petrichor, and there was sunlight on the ground like a mosaic patterned by god's own hands.

I said it like a monarch claiming new land: a declaration, a butterfly breath over old earth; like it was coffee on a warm morning with the sun in my eyes, interlacing with my lashes; like it was a dream; like it was a prayer like it was a miracle wrought of air and bone and body: you, in, out, in, out, in and in and in.

I cried it out like an earthquake between lip and lip, continents that don't quite fit: your

Flood of Hope~ Nothing quite compares
to the beauty of the rain
that crowns me in hope
and carries me away
into another world
where I feel so free
from this broken land
and haunted jubilees.
In the dreary night,
I can hear them sing
of the trifling rain
that this nature brings
and it makes me mad
knowing that they rebuke
this lovely thing called rain
that serves as my refuge.
Under it's healing touch,
my soul is at eternal ease.
Scars of shame disappear
like black holes in the galaxy.
Since my darkness fell
to the power of the rain,
everything is brighter within
and I've never been the same. ~

Dreaming of YouEvery night I dream of you
wishing upon a star
that you were here for real

Every night I lay in bed
a dream so wonderful
cause you are in it

I dream of being with you
to grow old together
a day never apart
only you are in my thoughts

A feeling so wonderful
it is in my heart
the love that grows
stronger each day

Every night I think of you
our love is for real
you are always here

I dream of happiness
being with you all the time
a dream so magical
that everything seem so real

Every night
you are here with me
keeping me safe
throughout the night

After all it is just a dream
but I promise you
that one day it will be real

So for now I will

Wasted Words.Wasted Words.

We wait for the last possible moment.
Even when confronting our opponents.

To reveal,
How we truly feel.

We hide behind our counterfeit expressions.
Conceal and contain our countless confessions.

Failing to announce,
What our mouths long to pronounce.

We purposely squander opportunities.
Maintaining our positions within our communities.

Avoiding any disclosure,
Reducing the risk of exposure.

We use humour to dilute what we actually say.
Because the truth does not have to be revealed today.

We know there always is a tomorrow,
So today has not got to be filled with sorrow.

We wait and wait.

Stall and pr

Irish DreamsMy dreams of Ireland are painted
with pastel green eye shadows
and emerald bushels of garland
that glisten in the charcoal night.

They're visions of golden showers
and fresh aquamarine dew drops
that embrace the lively bedrock,
awakening the creatures within.

They're the rush of bustling winds
weaving through the loose locks
of Irish boys and their lovers,
dancing under the Celtic stars.

They're the ancient melodies
that consume every fantasy heart
and yearner of good luck,
well-wishers and explorers.

My dreams of Ireland are painted
with every enticing touch of beauty
that one could possibly imagine.

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A Subtle DanceDusk falls with burgundy tears,
the glimmering of old chandeliers.
Frost collides with mercury light,
setting the scene of the night.

Amour is expressed within a song,
a ballad to move our bodies along.
The sensation of a silken gown
twirls with the sonorous sound.

A hint of perfection in your eyes
embraces the world in gentle sighs,
as fragments of ice melt into lace,
and velvet roses slip into place.

Another second of endless desire
envelops our hearts in silver fire.
A winter solstice oh so blessed,
a moment to never be repressed.

Unfolding DesireDarling,

You are a dream that has become a reality.

Vibrant FallAutumn memories stimulate
under a cardinal-colored tree,
where the relentless wind
once twisted my hair.

The sound of church bells
always encompassed me,
as I sunk into my scarf
to obstruct the bitter air.

And as I read my books,
tales of murder mysteries,
I would begin to take in
the perplexing sights.

And the satisfying taste
of home-cooked ravioli
would warm my stomach
from the chill of the night.

And although the fall time
speaks of an eerie scene,
my train of thought still
consistently turns back -

To the memories resting
under that ravishing tree,
where puzzles of the day
would slowly unpack.

Spring RevivalAmong the stormy cerulean sky,
the taste of blossoms linger high.

Pedals stain the depleted ground,
awakening nature all around.

Songs are carried in the breeze,
the warmth of heaven's melodies.

"Gone is the era of numbing pain,
now comes the season of blissful rain."

Secret WoodI am lost in the verdant green,
a jungle of star-shaped leaves
that travel among the seas
and linger in my eyes.

And I am soaring high...

With the tranquil evening air,
the whispers of my prayers
that flicker everywhere
into the magical fusion.

This is my summer illusion...

To behold the very sight
of a youthful fairy's night.

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To Be Alive

by *SereneCyrene, Feb 25, 2013, 7:04:54 PM
Literature / Poetry / Spiritual / Traditional Fixed Forms

I want to fall into the wind
and caress the velvet sky
as I take this soul within
and teach it how to fly.

Amid the fire and the rain,
I want to bathe in the light
as I let my tears escape
and fade into the night.

And I want to know how it feels
to be A L I V E.

I want to brush against the sea
and hear the angels resound
as I let this heart be free
to the chorus around.

Amid the stars and the moon,
I want to bathe in the light
until I waken by noon
and begin my true flight.

And I want to know how it feels
to be A L I V E.

'Cause without life, we're not only dead,
but astray from the hope inside our heads.
No, if we wish to really strive,
there's nothing like the gift
of being A L I V E.

To Be Aliveby *SereneCyrene

Literature / Poetry / Spiritual / Traditional Fixed Forms

Tonight was just one of those nights when the wind was whistling endlessly through the trees and it put me in a very poetic mood.

Therefore, this piece was born. Feedback is always appreciated.

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~msimoneaux20 Apr 1, 2013 New member Hobbyist Writer

Ooooooo this is amazing!! Truly inspiring. It's one of those poems that make me feel like I can do anything. Nice rhymes, great flow. Amazing poem, through and through.