A silver glow lines your delicate form
as we dance to the hymns of the new summer’s crickets.
-
The grass trembles beneath your nimble feet
when you spin in the smoky wind.
-
I will nestle in the long tresses of your ruby hair
and hide from time’s watchful eye.
-
Moths circle in flocks, for they see our yearning as it really is;
a spout of light pouring into the on looking stars. (The shining embers that mark our youth)
-
They cling to us. Cloaks of spores, flowing like creeks,
cascading in the wisps of campfire.
-
We abandon our carved idols and earthly trinkets,
stumbling, wild-eyed in the dark.
-
Tonight is for the neverlasting present,
and the merry circles we spin in its guise.
-
Her faun eyes were gleaming.
I am but a simple creature. (Oh, go running again little boy)
-
Spin me a cocoon
and tonight let the sleep come lightly.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
A silver glow lines your delicate form
as we dance to the hymns of the new summer’s crickets.
-
The grass trembles beneath your nimble feet
when you spin in the smoky wind.
-
I will nestle in the long tresses of your ruby hair
and hide from time’s watchful eye.
-
Moths circle in flocks, for they see our yearning as it really is;
a spout of light pouring into the on looking stars. (The shining embers that mark our youth)
-
They cling to us. Cloaks of spores, flowing like creeks,
cascading in the wisps of campfire.
-
We abandon our carved idols and earthly trinkets,
stumbling, wild-eyed in the dark.
-
Tonight is for the neverlasting present,
and the merry circles we spin in its guise.
-
Her faun eyes were gleaming.
I am but a simple creature. (Oh, go running again little boy)
-
Spin me a cocoon
and tonight let the sleep come lightly.
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