a desperado of stolen kisses
she plots her next theft with a loving care
she desires the hope
she hungers for the intimacy missing in her life
the feeling of the strong man in her arms
she walks past me with a furtive glance
but the road has spun me down
and i smile for her but leave the fable unsung
a desperado of stolen moments
he lay with the photographs and sketches
dreams captured by the dreamer
incantations of a lesser god are the discipline of his studys
but his passion lay in the slow motion studies
of life around him
a woman brushing a wisp of her hair behind one ear
slowed to a symphony of delicate beauty
a child's balloon in the crisp spaces between
the child's hand and the blue sky
slowed to a broken field of glass under the dust of years
they are all films played out in miniature on the minds eye
they are all photographs and sketches
dreams captured by the dreamer's dream
a desperado of the greensward in the dark of night
on mid-summers eve
steal away to the center of this quiet place
and hear the worlds silent spinning over a field of star
the world a bauble tied to a cosmic string
feel the warm grass beneath you
and its green fresh cut scent fills you with romance for the moment
there is something magical in this place
even if its just in the memory
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC
a desperado of stolen kisses
she plots her next theft with a loving care
she desires the hope
she hungers for the intimacy missing in her life
the feeling of the strong man in her arms
she walks past me with a furtive glance
but the road has spun me down
and i smile for her but leave the fable unsung
a desperado of stolen moments
he lay with the photographs and sketches
dreams captured by the dreamer
incantations of a lesser god are the discipline of his studys
but his passion lay in the slow motion studies
of life around him
a woman brushing a wisp of her hair behind one ear
slowed to a symphony of delicate beauty
a child's balloon in the crisp spaces between
the child's hand and the blue sky
slowed to a broken field of glass under the dust of years
they are all films played out in miniature on the minds eye
they are all photographs and sketches
dreams captured by the dreamer's dream
a desperado of the greensward in the dark of night
on mid-summers eve
steal away to the center of this quiet place
and hear the worlds silent spinning over a field of star
the world a bauble tied to a cosmic string
feel the warm grass beneath you
and its green fresh cut scent fills you with romance for the moment
there is something magical in this place
even if its just in the memory
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