The night lit with red lamps,
oozing musk into the air,
the moon's drunk in the rhythm
of the dancer's heart,
as he twirls his partner.

She smiles through the night
as the jasmines on her hair
fills his heart with rivers
of passion of the heavens.

The mystique of the night
grips time as it stands still,
as they get engraved in time .

Hold me close,
as the moon holds the sun,
In the sacred circle of love,
Where there exists
no beginning
or end,
Just,
Us.
-L.D.

Can you talk about good
without acknowledging evil

Could they ever
exist on their own

Can you go somewhere
without leaving someplace else

The answer
fairly shown

Simplistic by nature,
linguistic in form

Contrast
rules the day

Allowing for one
by embracing the other

Truth to each
conveys

(Wayne Pennsylvania: October, 2020)

A vanta black with specks of white.
The darkest night, embedded light.
The finest flicks, raised painted grain.
Diagonal lines, depicting rain.

The only colour of sodium light,
all placed on sticks and stood upright.
They line the street and evenly placed.
The coldest night, a bitter taste.

Upon the path, a man and dog.
Both brisk in pace and breath of fog.
Icicles drip from frozen eaves.
Returning home, both kicking leaves.

Kaydee.