To live a life only vicariously,
is to be blinded to the beauty of it.

Ma Cherie © 2017

White and blue now move to orange,
in flames that lick the tempting air,
dancing round a burning fire,
lost in thought- without a care,

Gypsy hearts they move in rhythms,
as fire builds with stomping feet,
the wafting smell of soft patchouli,
hints of savory with the sweet,

Tousled locks they flow on shoulders,
as arms and hands are lifted high,
clapping, moving to the pulses,
hearts are upward to the sky,

Many nights with many dances,
to dance before Aurora's throne,
as magic colors still transforming,
in sky of midnight - moon of bone,

To dance with many or to dance alone,

It doesn't matter -
just dance.

Ma Cherie © 2017

Many moons,
have passed over my headpiece,
as you leave me behind,
in moondust & ashes each night,

You collect on the bookshelves,
I keep here,
collecting on hearts with your light,
dusting my world with your beauty,
diminutives in bits of the white,

This is not the end of the journey,
 this a mere tiny part of the flight,
and I've not seen any more shiny,
or any star nearly as bright,

Though I am unable to see you now,
or touch your skin ever again,
or truly hear you with my ear,
I still miss you so my friend,

I know I cannot be near you now,
I cannot be where you are,
as you are but a twinkling light,
a brilliant & distant, star-

If it was not but for the moon dust,
my heart wouldn't,
be able to see you anymore either.

Ma Cherie © 2017

Respect turns to trust and kisses your bones
In bird language I speak tones of glowing stones
Roses freeze the afterglow of darkness
Dressed in moans and loaning their hands to anyone that passes
The dancers resume amusing stances
Chances are France is falling faster than a comet
Soaring like ships from broken moorings in Spain
Hours invested in self selection
A healthy hesitation to understand beauty