Do you think a shadow knows?
That it's just a shadow?
Given form by some matter and light?
I doubt so, but what do I know?
Perhaps the shadow is real,
And I'm the one who doesn't see,
The illusion of life lying to me,
Making me another shadow dancing on the wall, thinking I'm free.
The sun loves the moon and they talk everyday. Their love flourish even though they are miles away-Lucia Airo
Singing to the rooftops turning blue about the romance between the sun & the moon.
Fusing lips meld,
our geminated form
is our silhouettes' painter.
Our impassioned throes
as we smile with our eyes
A small fire brings about eternity.
Fingers twined we hold onto an illusive warmth.
has hold entirety
moody I am on
wandering amiss in his dreams
I feel voyeuristic
red faced caught
looking in the boudoir
glass at my sister
and her young lover
or among tall grass
with heavenly harped angels
silent breeze clearing my forehead
on the shore
the birds whistle
soft the surge closes
on sand and makes love
with the sun glistening
and I blush again
from all the corners of my heart.
I write from every chamber,
from every ventricle that pumps the blood
that circulates throughout my soul.
when I am succeeding as a human being
and I write
when I fail,
I fail on a grand scale,
but at least I write.
...and don't we all, Poetry Friends?