I am not so much captivating
But i promise i'll make your world beautiful
Your secrets will be safe with me
I promise i'll make you blissful
Be mine

I'm not so fond of movies
But i'll listen your favourite song with you
Even though our favourite football team will be different
But i'll celebrate your team's vanquish with you
Be mine

Invite me to your favourite place
I'll offer you a favourite dish
I'll hold you for a lifetime
You are my only and last wish
Be mine

Dance with me in rain
Count those stars with me
I'll love you with my all heart
I'll gaze at you until my eyes can see
Be mine

If i'll  be the most difficult person to understand
Promise me,you'll always love me as much as you can
And i know everything will be right
If you'll forever hold my hand
Be mine

The trap was set by the light of the winter blue moon ;
just a simple blank sheet of paper and a pen
The Antique Cherry carved poster bed stood alone ,
adorning four Bordeaux colored silk pillowcases ,
fluffed feather pillows impatiently laying in wait
The stone cold down comforter that blanketed the loneliness
was neatly turned down from where it lay tucked and rolled ...

I close my eyes with a surrendering sigh ;
the cold touch of solitude brings a breathtaking shiver
Curling up in a fetal ball for a sense of closeness ,
like a tiny abandoned child, waiting for the sandman
to steal away the remains of another lonely day ...

In the imperative silence of the moonlit stillness ,
you could hear the blood running through my veins
The pounding heartbeat is reluctantly softened
quietly drifting off into a dream ...

The first arousing whisper broke the silence ,
as musings tiptoed through the silent reverie
Songs danced throughout the secret places ,
safely kept out of the wilderness' nocturnal voyeurs eyes
Words murmured expose an unsated caged yearning ;
an insatiable thirst that aloneness can not quench ...

Emotions ebb and flow within the twilight depths
of our thickly breathed word play
Intertwined in the infinite beauty
of enchanting moonstruck conjured delights ...

We glide speechlessly in the starlit moon dust,
levitating blissfully like giddy adult playmates
with  an  uninhibited  wanton  glee
Mesmerized by a rousing romantic essence
stirring up an urgent swooning breeze
If only this recurring dreamfulness
could reach out beyond reach a bewitching dream
to tenderly touch another impassioned heart of soul ...  

                                 ~

The sweat soaked sheets are now tangled ,
twisted traces of ecstasy tossed and turned
Awakened flesh trembling with the uncovered morning chill
A body drained and exhausted
as if there were never a moments sleep ...

The trap was set by the light of the winter blue moon ;
perfectly placed to catch the spilled secrets
of a moonstruck midnight spell
Awakening to find a paling illusion’s memory
laid bare in words, stranded on the cotton sheets of dawn ~

In the heat of the night these three simple words 
were clearly scribbled, trapped on the once blank sheet of paper ―
                       to remind me in ink blue ...

                               It  is You !!!

                                    and

               " I breathe you in my dreams "


             harlon rivers ….❤  happy belated St. Valentines day ☽

Drinking wine by candle light
Small flame that might've
toasted music
Holding off instead
a flood of grief
Some wall I must retain
Some hope I still maintain
called life
...or was it love or...

one of those foolish things....

It's not important now
I am not known for caving-in
complaining
Not one for asking
nor for needing much
to hold my own...

I just need everything--

Boundless days of youth
forever slipping  
Only one dream yet remains

Wash over  
tender tide
The sea has found the breast
Seals it with its mouth
a hunger
lunging toward its home
of earth-warm woman
a deep surround

Longing there to cry
to take her back
to take it out on all
the taking

hurt of it
the bitter
and the knowing
loss of song

I can't recall

...The music that I cannot make
for lack of everything

This book is full
of my father's eye lashes
He treated the pages
rough like his sons
pinching the daylights
out of them, I remember
mud and grease
on calloused thumbs
and you can still smell
Four Roses bourbon
in the morning
through the onionskin
He would not weep
he knew most folks
never kept their word
Anyway, his death
came through
like a hitchhiker
You could see it coming
like the slow light
of a faraway dead star.

To love
you must find
where light convenes at daybreak
brooding

You must search
beyond impending greenery
assertive lace and pirate flower

Below the clouds of spring
that can’t—
be seriously taken

Behind time’s betrayal
where vined lattice
cages fragments of a smile

Why sophisticate such sense?

Far more to the extent
of will and heart extended
taste is answered
unaware
of when the sweet was gone

For presence is!
when savored sources—linger
...in their endings
known—and not resigned

Melted...quiescent...priestly moment

It’s not Zenith!
but Twilight

who drops her eyes!

To love
you must—
must love

beyond...below...behind

i want to write something,
bright and beautiful.
but those things,
are memories,
out of reach,
on a high shelf.

i see them, in crooked
neck glimpses,
as they gather dust.

i hope to find my
rose tinted glasses
soon,
perhaps,
when i get home
and have some rest and sleep,
i will find them nestled,waiting,
in my bedside drawer.

i know my record has,
but a few grooves right now,
and sings only lamentations.

the fragility of my body,
assults my mind.
and the reliance on chemical
relief provides, physical respite.
but brings,a side order of
mental frailty.
so anything you get...
has those filters attached.

my world right now,
is miniscule.
this is my window...

but i know,
things will get better.
bear with me friends...
i will write,
beautiful  again.