~~
All had been removed
one by one
Take all!
But do not take away this little light
Open the window
Let the wind come

I will not protest any day
will not say against you
Even when I got empty I do not want to
Those yellow crops,
Fertile barren fields
all yours

Do not want to
Never ask you for anything expensive

But in return
I want to see those yellow marigolds,
The silver moonlit of the lonely moon
And a newly bloomed red rose,
The aroma of gardenia in the air
For my awaiting beloved,
So Let the wind come

I'll give you more!
The Hidden gold pitcher of my grandma,
The Saved Silver coin of my ancestor,
Gold, precious locket,
Antics-
The Diamond Crown
– All -

But want to return
My beloved's smile which has taken from
The golden shining day where I had left her
The very Sweet Southern wind where my Spring plays
My lost grasshopper

Lost love Song
My mother's simple smile,
The paper boats of my springtime,
My grandma's fairytale
And a piece of open sky where I take a little breath

Where my kites of dreams fly
Dances with Seven colors of love
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

It's a small bed we share
barely enough for the two
but big enough for the pair
to see the years sail through.

The wood now creaks with age
shrunk thin the old mattress
weighed down with passing days
buoyed up with embrace.

The pillows are thick with stains
of tears that flowed all the while
from rivers of joys shared pains
upon travel of the long trying miles.

Loyally it carries us along
our bed of priceless worth
could mere wood be that strong
if not bonded with warmth!

Let love's sunset into my heart
With sullen greys tinged in pink
With last rays of warmth
Before there comes the chill

Let the last breath of fulfillness
Ease around my heart
Take away the sunny memories
Softly as the light fades away

Fading fast empty embraces
And kisses that have no taste
As softly whispered I love yous
Fall into the Atlantic sea

Come nightness surround now
My empty heart
Console my ache and care
So come now , sunset of my heart

As sunlight fades earth’s rich brocade,
We follow the flight of the birds,
Past the emerald forest now in shade,
Our silence speaks a thousand words.
We climb up a ladder of blue cloud.
To sit on a moon edged roof,
Far away from the madding crowd.
Hearts filled with vibrating truth.
Our shadows dance in melodies of mist
We sit drifting through the circling stars.
Our souls tumbling, flying, when we kiss,
For this night only, heaven is ours.
A moment that ought to last forever,
Has come and gone before we know,
Our hearts which opened like flowers in spring,
Will become frosted, iced, with snow.
And the barks and crows and life jars
As the saffron sunrise fills the sky,
We linger with pearl drops in our eyes,
Then lift our hands to wave goodbye.

Golden rays shine down
On the white peaked mountain top
Water trickles through

are the vagrant weeds, there on earth spread like greedy *******,
never appreciated. Dandelions , to me,
are as gifted glorious,
as any violet or rose. and, fro'
to and believe just as an Orchids scent
on Easter day.
In Ecclesiastes ,
is told that mere breath,
just living, is meaningless.
everything just dies, all is meaningless.
I write thereby, an autobiography,
as if I were a ****.
germinated not pretty, fragrant
vagabond, I analogize, anthropomorphize
into a moth ugly,
I try to be a Butterfly,
flutter beautifully, colorful.
But am I
I am
beautiful,
anyway
suffering, continuously
burned in the fire.

~Christi Michaels~May 2015~

I sense the wind
across my skin
goose bumps rise
         to your touch
         calloused hands
         fingers know just
         how firm to grasp

the light rain
Knowin' of a
storm a'blowin
           Your lips settle
           on mine
           wet~slick
           firm and yielding till soft

We are nestled in these
suspended moments
between precipitation and
an all out squall
          Your fullness climbs into me
          finding my breath
          I inhale the quiet before...
          exhale, inhaling the Fresh of You

as this storm unfolds
pounding down seedlings of spring
rinsing all things clean
         I am awash with you
         unbridled passion having
         survived a prolonged
         season of thirst and drought

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.