Oct 2014
The night closes down its comfort zone
drowning in the dusk of musk scented sleep
alone with wild energies seeking solace
in strange arms, unknown banter
as we leave behind the dancing day
busy footsteps in a race to finish at five
heading home, the day trails behind
heavy footsteps locked inside a casket
of memories for tomorrow, will surely
bring its cold chill and diary notes
to keep us pushing on.
Yet the evening has its own secrets
wine and wishes, sip by sip, as we unwind
our stories of a stressful day, people we met
spoke to in brisk tones, carried briefcases
of lecture notes, and walked the corridors
of learning, always mindful of the clock
and learners grasping at straws as I,
deliver the technological wonders that
unfold in young brains, still unable to grasp
how society heaves and sighs with wanting more.
Someday soon I will leave this job
walk in the wilderness of the country side
smell fresh earth and newly mowed lawns
watch sunrise and sunset and cows
grazing blissfully unaware of my presence.
Age has its own miracles meeting new goddesses
from distant lands, who see deep into the simmering
beauty of what I create in words and visuals
and who give all the praise and glory tenfold
with unselfish sharing and caring.My heart beats for them.
I wish, I wish for those young and folly days
when I wandered a strange wilderness
writing and reading and sharing and knowing
that life itself was engineered to be like this evening
of velvet smoothness and silky toned romances
that few knew drove me to write like this endlessly
Back to the night which has just waved goodbye
to the last lingering twilight for today and pulled
its subtle robe of shadows and faint lights around itself
and enclosed me in its delicate grasp of wonder.
I see my lover, far far away, as if, she were here,
reading and feeling and knowing that she is my muse
and all the temples that I build with my words and visuals
are solely for her enjoyment.She draws me in a circle.
Good night, my love. I will rise with you
at the dawn of the next day!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
drowning in the dusk of musk scented sleep
alone with wild energies seeking solace
in strange arms, unknown banter
as we leave behind the dancing day
busy footsteps in a race to finish at five
heading home, the day trails behind
heavy footsteps locked inside a casket
of memories for tomorrow, will surely
bring its cold chill and diary notes
to keep us pushing on.
Yet the evening has its own secrets
wine and wishes, sip by sip, as we unwind
our stories of a stressful day, people we met
spoke to in brisk tones, carried briefcases
of lecture notes, and walked the corridors
of learning, always mindful of the clock
and learners grasping at straws as I,
deliver the technological wonders that
unfold in young brains, still unable to grasp
how society heaves and sighs with wanting more.
Someday soon I will leave this job
walk in the wilderness of the country side
smell fresh earth and newly mowed lawns
watch sunrise and sunset and cows
grazing blissfully unaware of my presence.
Age has its own miracles meeting new goddesses
from distant lands, who see deep into the simmering
beauty of what I create in words and visuals
and who give all the praise and glory tenfold
with unselfish sharing and caring.My heart beats for them.
I wish, I wish for those young and folly days
when I wandered a strange wilderness
writing and reading and sharing and knowing
that life itself was engineered to be like this evening
of velvet smoothness and silky toned romances
that few knew drove me to write like this endlessly
Back to the night which has just waved goodbye
to the last lingering twilight for today and pulled
its subtle robe of shadows and faint lights around itself
and enclosed me in its delicate grasp of wonder.
I see my lover, far far away, as if, she were here,
reading and feeling and knowing that she is my muse
and all the temples that I build with my words and visuals
are solely for her enjoyment.She draws me in a circle.
Good night, my love. I will rise with you
at the dawn of the next day!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
