Tip
Of the tattle tellers tongue
Tenaciously Terse tales told
Tending to tea and tempting taboo

In my hands I hold a pen, not a needle, but a pen.
Oh how I wish it were the needle.
Both hold the expression to that which I hold dearly.
For it's not just a pen or a needle that I hold;
It is me!

There is nothing but the murmur of your breathing, the moonlight
spreading its luminous light cutting through the darkness across the
white sheets. I am the keeper of the silence. You, Sarah, are the
keeper the sensuous. Now you sleep, but gently I begin by kissing
lightly your forehead, so lightly you do not move. I kneel on the bed
beside you gazing at your long, flaxen hair that the generous, silver
moon graces with its silver streams. There is nothing wrong with
silence or the darkness of the the rest of the room, a chiaroscuro by
the ghost of Giotto. I slowly pull the white sheet from your shoulders
to below your knees without awakening you, a panoply of pulchritude.
With only my eyes, I touch you. I am enraptured. In silence and darkness
and silver streams, there is no time. I am the keeper of silence, an august
post, more regal than any throne, any crown. Sleep, dear Sarah, as long
as you wish, for there is no time when we are at the epicenter of love.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

AUGUST 29----08:50am
          In a mild weary night
    When mortals in final seek solace
        With their earthly deeds upon them tight
        to encounter a burden bound for see

Which apprise with unawares sneaks
        In many vision the world in view
     Then,range who in mystery pick
     May mordant or mellow with few

  Ascending instance as realm poke
  And a shrewd with cognizance attain ray
Which those folly with volition smoke
And in reality realm their mordant hay

               In  a wild scary night;
         When mortals in finals seek solace
         And precious embraced in flight
           By fierce angel subdue case

            And mortals are all nature minded
             Of any trifle or prime revelation
             Destined,as of subdue minded
       Then a dream is a theme of revelation.
                                                                                            #@T.G.P
                                                                                          #@Salimon