"Professor Scarpnell  you are wanted on the phone" says an automated voice coming out of the message system. He slips the disk into the back of his neck and listens carefully to the instructions he is about to input  
Twenty four hours later all over the world  there are  people diving into water  searching for something that will change the world for good.
In a circular library sits an old librarian who has never left the City since the day she was born. "Off to pack my little bag" she says as she re-aligns a bobby pin gone askew.  At home she eats her modest egg then goes to the bedroom to search for her overnight bag.  
In another corner of the world Jim a retired fireman is peeled to the television watching the news. It appears that the virus has mutated and spread across the land faster than  the speed  of light. For the umpteenth time he wishes the department hadn't served him his papers and retired him like an old dog. At the age of fifty he is still fit as a fiddle. The phone rings at cutting edge and a green horizontal line appears.  Jack hears 'four' imprinted words....
                                     " IT'S IN THE WATER " .
He packs his shrapnel bullets in the lined compartment of his bunker gear then offers up a diluted prayer to the Gods of Technology for their systematic and safe state of weaponry.
Its a cool evening in Venice and the October wind has twined itself around the gondolas like an old friend.  Autumn  is a time for customary dishes and as the staff works diligently  in the kitchen, Chef Marco Battalione  catches up on paper work.  He opens an email from an unknown source asking for a reservation for seven on October 18,  7pm . Included is an e-transfer of $5,000 euros.
"I will need a private room where we can talk in absolute privacy  without the threat of being overheard.  The menu I leave entirely to your discretion.  I will arrive shortly after diner to introduce myself to the guests at hand.   Please do not try to contact me at this email address.  It is now obsolete for  reasons of confidentiality and for the  safety of all persons involved. "
Marco is stumped by the audacity of this person. When he realizes that  because of the restrictions on restaurants caused by COVID, he has
lost most of his income. He knows that he can ill afford to refuse such a generous offer. Setting aside a stack  of  bills, he begins to plan a menu fit for a King and Queen. With a red felt pen he  circles the date on the calendar, then pours himself a drink.  He raises a glass to the neon lights echoing over labyrinth streets and canals, and says "Salute"  

to be continued...

Lori Jones McCaffery 2d

Every morning I kneel and pray
For the needs of other people.
But nobody prays for me.
Fourteen ways my body fails
And my mind is failing too.
Yet nobody prays for me.
My needs are on the bottom shelf
I carefully set it up that way.
So nobody prays for me.
I thought I was invincible
But my needs outweigh my strength.
Won’t somebody somewhere pray for me.

The Response:  By Mystic Rose

I see you on that bottom shelf
and wonder what made you think
that you belonged there, my child.
I watched you carry them all on your shoulders
those Columbuses of a war torn world *  
Yes you pray for them, but who prays for you ?
Know that I am the one who by the touch  
of my hand, can make you whole again.
As I brush your soul against mine,  
I set you higher than the Angels of heaven.   
I am that silent prayer in your heart
that invisible shield that protects you  
Just think of me  
and I'll be there beside you.   
"Bottom Shelf" ? no not there, go ahead take my hand,
I will pull you up close and personal, " Top Shelf"
that is where you belong.

Our God is bountiful because he knows no measure to the love He has for us  
doting in the wings like a Father  regardless of our Faith in Him or not
He endeavors to protect us from above
as if we were the only stars in His galaxy;
There are days when we feel like we ate the paupers last meal
and there are times when we don't have the strength to rise above
Still, He is a God of continuance and doesn't ask much from us
pouring out every drop of compassion and mercy upon our souls  
he fills our empty cup and breaks bread, for  the sake of nurturance ;  
Regardless of our vision or lack of it, he sees us through
Our God is bountiful because,  
He created the earth and filled it with un-barren fruit  
so we could have life on earth  
and live in His abundance, until our sweet homecoming.  

November 14, 2020

Let us stretch our stillness with a moment of meditation
reach our true potential, by calming the mind's  queries
Find a place where you belong and build your cradle
into the creases of time , rock forward into motion;
Send the noises over to the other side of the room
then invite silence in to soak your senses for a while
Place your instinct in the doorway of procreation
and leave your beliefs ajar, there is always a maybe?
When we think that life has closed its passage on us
we are mistaken, it is only gearing us to higher ground
to a better place where we can discover hidden strength  
Hear the song of the heart it is  yours all yours my dear
Stretch your stillness beyond your imagination and
find a concrete thought that will tell you the truth
you are not alone, you live in communion with others
here on earth, and in heaven, both contain,  YOU !

She made me my first reticule when I was ten years of age
cutting an empty javex container she basketed the base  
then used her crochet to knit the yellow phentex into a purse,  
including a string to gather and hug the curve of my hand;  
In that moment , she taught me how to treasure things
and put them inside soft places  
where they could be hidden, from the rest of the world;
My mother, my confident, my first best friend,  
stitched to my heart the memory of her actions
as I the soakant in souled her like a kiss  
Inside the satchel I kept an Avon sachet, "basket of scented violets"
and the memory of those blessed hands.
If I close my eyes I can still recall the statue that sat in our living room
Our Lady Of Fatima
Three elective children, The Leonardi Clan" praying the rosary on plastic covered couches;  
Mom was our compass of faith, as we prayed,
I thought of my little pouch, and all the treasures I stored inside.

October 18, 2020

Encapsulated in a world of duty and obligation
I see no room for fantasy or imagination
no wind of September
can ever dismember
the longing I feel for illusion, fantasy and excitation

Only the stars of heaven can throw me a rope
at night when I sleep, its the only time I cope    
the moon  
is my woon  
up there in the sky its the only thing that floats like hope.

September 23, 2021

September hues of school day smiles and bran new leather bags
creative minds as young as baby figs with eager hearts of lore  
My days were full with mischief makers and bragging scalawags
but as the evening fell it was dad and I and paper planes galore

Lined creased papers pressed against father's smoky fingers strong
a wide tooth grin that said it all, while folding them in Ludwig style
Symmetrical wings shaped at the edge to fly through standby throng      
inside a backyard airfield 16x24, .. we launched then bridged a mile

One was  shaped like a prayer mantis one was fashioned like a jet  
homework waited as we glided through a glide-path then a runway
Aerobatic landings that were much more thrilling, then a Lego set
oh the wanders of those days when we both knew, how to play.  

August 13, 2022

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PF23EtYwvMs

There lives a touch of the Divine inside my soul tonight
and as I surrender to its peaceful ways  I begin to awaken gently  
I am a wayward soul in need of Godlike essence,
a Seraphic beauty that unties with every silent prayer.  
My heart allows the inner flow of the Divine to intervene,  
as scented thoughts penetrate and perfuse, I meet my Divine
muse;
In this quiet paradise for one I am connected to all beings
and all beings are connected to me, through love.
Tonight the incense shall burn inside this ancient kiln
"Yarim Tepe"... softening the edges of my emotions,  
like a Divine emollient, and turning me to softer shadows;
The sound of inner peace shawling, I breathe  
and as the soul meets the night, my dreams take flight
In this Divine journey of discovery, I am content
to co-exist, aside its beautiful liquid golden light.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6__SoXlDf8

UNIVERSAL THOUGHTS ARE RISING TO MEET  YOU AT THE CROSSROAD OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL JOURNEY . ALLOW YOUR MIND TO NAVIGATE FREELY OF ITS OWN ACCORD, TOWARDS THE  PATHWAYS OF YOUR SOULFUL HEART.   (BREATHE )
BRIDGE YOUR CONNECTION AND ENTER THE CITRINE ROOM OF YOUR OWN ACCORD.  THERE YOU WILL FIND THE GEMSTONE OF YOUR CHOICE. BE IT AMETHYST, FOR HEALING, BLUE SHAPPIRE FOR INNER VISION , OR JADE TO PROTECT YOUR LOVING HEART ENERGY.   (BREATHE )
RELEASE YOUR WORRIES AND PLACE YOURSELF IN THE MOST CAPABLE HANDS OF THE ONE WHO LOVES YOU BEYOND TIME AND SPACE. SHE  GAIAM , EARTH GODDESS, IS INTERCONNECTED  WITH ALL LIVING THINGS IN ALL ITS NATURAL ORDER.  EMBRACE THE BEAUTY OF THE GARDEN AND SEED YOUR THOUGHTS ON FERTILE GROUND  (BREATHE )
WATCH AND BREATHE WATCH AND BREATHE, LOOK AND SEE, LOOK AND SEE,  EVERYTHING AROUND YOU IS SPACIAL AND GOOD, EVERYTHING BREATHES AS IT SHOULD FLOAT ATOP YOUR SENSES AND ENJOY THE PIVOTAL MOMENTS OF YOUR UNPHYSICAL BODY. (BREATHE)
ALIGN YOUR SPIRIT TO THE STARS AND GLIDE INTO THE LIGHT.  ONCE YOU ARE SPIRITUALLY AJUSTED TO LIFE'S FLOW, YOU WILL FEEL BALANCED AND MOST COMFORTABLE.
RECEIVE THE GOD GIVEN DIVINE ENERGY THAT HAS BEEN OFFERED TO YOU.  DURING THIS TIMELESS JOURNEY YOUR HEART REMEMBERS WELL.  YOU ARE NOW READY TO COMPLETE THE MEDITATION WITH A POSITIVE AFFIRMATION "I AM DIVINELY LOVED"

Alleviate your burdens like the faithful swans of grace
come into her garden its full of flowers, light and lace
God has given her the gift of ethereal imagery
and blessed her Holy hands for all eternity

Angelic music wafting from a magical harp
dusted rosy skies of pink and baby blue
as the angel strums beneath God's heavenly tarp
the swans are drawn in closely, sidled two by two

A wonderous healing happens in this natural space,
as delicate birds of wander fly from place to place;
Serenity, tranquility with every stroke of soft and slow
the artist's soul reveals itself, and then begins to glow.

Written by: Mystic Rose

As I quiet my mind
and press my ear softly to your pillow
my heart recalls
the lovely tune you once made up for me;
While the crickets
trill against my window
I recall ,  
The sonant sound of your voice
and those sweet kisses,
beneath the willow tree  .

She's like the essence of a coral rose
a latent bloomer with a heart of gold
And when she speaks to me in prose
deep inside, she opens doors of old

Rosy cheeked and full of vitality
a thriving blush in my garden of love
Infused with life and immortality
she's been sent from up above

A rose by any name will always be so neat  
like cupid wings when flown across the sky
Filled with ample beauty she's replete
soft and mellow, like a gentle sigh  

She's the perfume of my scented days,  
perfect and valuable in every way.

a pixie dust allusion on fairy wing profusion
a cranberry wreath on a child of bequeath

a touch of grace on a deer soft as lace
a lantern slow beam on a forest gleam

in a world of gilded fantasy, we are poetry
in a world of innocent dreams their coterie

in a fairy world of love we are impearled
in a moment of creative enfold we're gold

an incandescent light at the end of a forest
one touch of mercy and suddenly we're blest.
  
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2021

secret flowers hidden in my chest
ever day I wake up to do my best
the prayers of yesterday still linger
on my distracted, rolling fingers
a sacral image tattooed with Grace  
etched upon my heart, Christs face
no denomination here, just love
properly suiting me like a glove;
Sanctity cannot be seen but can be felt,  
a deliquesce thing that comforts, melts.

When it comes to all my sorrows
what do I do with them
Do I place them in a paper cup
and pour them down the sink
Do I take a mallet to them
and pound them soft as mink
When it comes to all my tears
where do I bring them?
Do I bring them to the sea
to merge with salty smears
Do I offer up my wailings
to the God above?
When it comes to all my sadness
what can take them all away?
Do I grin and bear it with a grin    
then walk away on feet of clay  
or do I pray for better days,  
hoping that ,He'll lead the way.

Clean vessels made of snow and powder dust
softly lifting from the gaze of the wind
Gentle hands rising towards the heavenly realm
Soft as the rain on a spider web in the early morning dawn
silky as the waters of the Meridian sea
Song of the lark reaching across the meadows of your mind
even the angels are grazing the portals of human kind  
Eyes wide open, heart agape, soul enamored
mala beads gently clacking awakening the presence
into the field of green we go to find the burnished ambers
of yesterday's lifetime glows
where we will end up , nobody knows
and so the feeling grows, and so the feeling goes
into those beautiful vessels of ours,
made of powder dust and snow.
Purity of mind, a precious find...

Let's put CHRIST back into Christmas and steer towards the season without fear  
with no distraction of any kind to take us away from the LOVE gift he proposed
Superfluous  gifts with money tags are of no use this year so we better adhere
to the treasure of His birth, a birth that was so dear that even the camel posed

Lets cook good food, gather our children to our *****  and give them hope
light your candles, use your best china,  tomorrow is only a promised wind
Laugh at yourself a little,  God knows you need it, its a great way to cope
be as kind as you can be, use your empathy for those who's hearts rescind

Bring the tinsel to your front window show the world that you are a believer
Christ was the light of the world and still is today, he was never a deceiver
Send Christmas cards in abundance this year, and open your heart to LOVE
it is the only gift worth giving and receiving, ...for its a one size fitted glove

Let's put the CHRIST back into Christmas and remember our parents rule,  
if you don't realize by now its not about the gifts, then go back to school.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE
LETS SALUTE THE HOLY SON..

Open your heart to multi-dimensional reality
for when it comes to the soul,  
                                 it is not about frugality

Dive into new possibilities and transverse
into the abyss of new cosmic hope,
                        Oh! Being of light, diverse !!!

WHEN THE SUN SETS ON YOUR TIRED EYES AND THE WORLD
AS YOU KNOW IT HAS TURNED FROM GOLD TO EVENING AMBER,  
RETRIEVE IN THE CHAMBER OF YOUR THOUGHTS AND THINK OF ME;
REMEMBER THE LAUGHTER WE SHARED ON OUR WAY TO THE LAKE
THE BRUSH OF A LEAF AGAINST YOUR CHEEK,
THE CARESS OF MY LOVING EYES EASILY SLIDING
TOWARDS YOU , LIKE THE DAWN SLIPPING INTO A NEW HORIZON,  
MAKING OUR WORLD THAT MUCH BETTER ...
WHILE THE FISH SWAM IN THE GURGLING RIVER WE FISHED
SIDE BY SIDE, HEART OF VELVET SKIN OF HYDE
TWO LOVERS LOSING THEMSELVES IN THE MOMENT
WHEN THE SUN LOWERS DOWN FROM THE PAVILLION SKY
REMEMBER HOW MUCH I LOVED YOU AND ALWAYS WILL
WHEN THE NIGHT ARRIVES TO SIT ON YOUR WINDOW SILL
REMEMBER TO THINK O ME,  AND BE STILL.

I remember in her eyes the color of Christmas day
and the taste of melted butter in the early morning sun
The cadence of her voice, the undertone sounds
of her silences,  it was long ago

She was a matriarchal mountain of energy back in days
when her hair was colored red and her cheeks pummeled pink
Decadent cakes for Christ's birthday accompanied by her own
we ate cake with eyes aglow

Then in the eve of midnight, we unwrapped
secrets that were handed down from family tree to family tree
prepping our dreams we slept without the know
that Christmases of future would hold no mistletoe

I remember her eyes two melting Chocolates,  
and the sound of her laughter was like rippled layers of agate.

She was beautiful in a way that only nature understood
walking out into the sunlight she turned sunlight into Hyde  
raven black hair that fanned, two eyes of mesquite wood
no taller then four feet guided with a partnered girl guide

Little did I know she belonged to the day camp next door
recovering from trauma she'd been matched and supervised
all I said to her was,  " your beautiful" no less,  no more,
she froze turned around and ran, all I saw was her backside

Later I was told she had been burned and scarred by an Uncle
I assumed the word beautiful was a Stanley knife to fear  
she reminded me of a meteor rock, a magnificent Runkle
that burned very brightly as she re-entered earth's atmosphere

Oh she was beautiful  in ways only nature could not misconstrue  
truth be told I sat on a bench and cried, deep inside I felt her pain
so I painted her a butterfly so she could put it on her window pane
and at the bottom I inscribed the words, "Rolla, I love you "

July 15, 2021

(A PERSONIFICATION POEM )

I was born cradled inside your palm  
within the perimeters of a safe haven  
brought to life by loving silty fingers
Rose is what I heard you call me
staying true to my appellative name
I chose to bloom inside your heart  
Many butterflies and bumblebees
sat on my flowerhead but only you
were the apple of my eye, dear heart
I was born to please you and only you
enclosed and surrounded I thrived,
like a rose, in a tangled mess of flowers.

Written by Mystic Rose

She puts on her sweat pants and heads out towards the door  
over to the gym to exercise and tone her body just so
Diner reservations are at eight and she has much to do
before meeting him in her silk red dress and winning smile

At the makeup counter she chooses a vigorous ***** scent
and with two dreamy eyes she pays the lady then walks out
Unbeknownst, her darling Mark is at a glass case choosing  
a diamond ring for a rare occasion called love and marriage

The gentleman across from him snaps the velvet case closed
son there is a reason why they call this place The Sweat Shop
He knows he spend too much, but she is worth every penny
arriving early he hides the ring underneath the damask cloth

Chopin plays on and as he gazes in her eyes of tinkling glass
he holds out  the ring to her  " Will You Marry Me"  he says
and as the world falls away, for a moment, a second, a day
two lovers kiss in a booth that smells like, roses and wine.

Rose scented candles burning softly through the night
aurora rays of holy fanning, beauteous returns
Emerald dreams give birth to dessert moon's ignite  
if life unfolds before you, meditate, discern ...

Ethereal reveries of flowers flushed in gold
pick a petal, sing a song, dance to hearts delight  
Heaven waits for angels just like you, unfold
before the sun and seize the light

Let the springtime share its prose  
watch the Bluestar flourish    
kiss the lilac, hold the rose,
close your eyes and make a wish

Rose colored glasses and fairy dust galore,  
the best things in life, you can't find in a store.

Celestial Angel take me to your secret spot by heaven's lair
show me where you've hidden all your gilded harps of gold
Make me privy to the cennet of God's  garden, help me flare        
my flame, inside Sanani's arms of love for I am old...    
Celestial Angel, take me to your secret spot by heaven's lair.

Lighting the candle she then raises the veil and reveals
to her inner self, the most candid reflection of she ;

Her innate behavior
turns her into a experienced Mantra Queen !
Wrapping her body with calm from within  
she learns the exquisite science of a soft caress.
With subtle gentle intent she lands on a hillock
of freshened breath.
Inhaling exhaling with each acquired breath
the fibrous moments of her sedentary life turn into  
a journey of healing and blessed quietude.
Each tellurian thought disperses into beauty rest,  
Namu Myoho Renge Kyo   "Glory to the Dharma of the Lotus Sutra"
One breath turns into another as she enters
Wakayama, "the treasure trove of untouched nature"
She closes her eyes and enters the Japanese garden of her dreams
the one that persists on appearing behind closed eyelids
long after the trespass of yesterday's travail.
Blowing out the candle, she sits in the dark
listening to a long mahogany silence.
There is a light at the window and it beckons her
so she follows the trail to the garden like a blind woman
being solely led by the scent of Sakura, on a warm gauzy night.
Her Yukata kimono ***** in the wind as she enters this seasonal March
Lost in a paradise of cherry blossoms,
in a Seijaku moment that begs to be treasured.
Here beyond reality,
she experiences devotedly through her Yata mirror,  
all that is to be assimilated
with reverential catalyst mystique.

The End.

She had a dream many years ago of moon fish in the sea  
as the Mermaids sang,  the moon fish swam happy and carefree  
the moon began to shine
the sky turned April wine  
sweet moments of eternity,  
in a sweet poetic voice of poetry;    
She had a vision of the ocean, filled with moon fish of every shade  
and as the dolphins danced the sky turned emerald Jade  
Then the stars appeared
as evening slowly neared
when the wind did veer
the moon fish quickly cleared
She longed to see the moon fish swim by a sky of midnight blue      
and so a vigil by the sea, brought moon fish of every hue  

Written by: Mystic Rose

Quote:  Lend me your fire bring me your wings,  
surround me and make me feel like I'm standing
on higher ground

Autumn scents, woodsy bark, frissons and joy
me a September baby, at your employ
Send me out into the fields to gather armloads of apples
then teach me how to jump in the leaves and grapple
In the gloaming of nightfall bring your harvest o'er to me
that I may fill my dreams with color , bright and plenty
gourds, sunflowers, pumpkins and pinecone drops
let me lose myself in your golden crops
awaken me like a sweet camellia,
be my splendor-Autumn of serenity.

We are depleting our planet little by little while taking what we need
perhaps this is the time to give back to Mother Earth and plant a seed
Imagine yourself in the forest picking chanterelles, like times of old
Wild animals running free, deer panting by the river with eyes of gold
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out
Giant trees with leafy arms that encircle you with love and breeze
they talk to you in whispers, about the magical ignite of precious soil
Best part of you is now immersed inside this magical embroil
you are part of the whole, part of everything that breathes
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
Place your back against the trunk of a tree and allow the energy to enter
Up in the heavens the angels are sending you rays of golden sun
Your creator is re-shaping you like a soft pliable piece of clay
he wants you back tot he original shape of the creature you once were
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
You own blessed hands, a blessed heart and a capable body that works
give thanks for the gift of living, give thanks to Mother Earth
and the One who has given you life, you are loved beyond all measure.

Still unwritten not quite, filled in
every word has pinned itself to story  
like a sewing machine stitch
down a runway path to somewhere;
Turning points and zig zag threading
let the seams tell of the glory
Pages of my life sealed inside a book
like bookends at a fairground
holding steady until the rider mounts;
Still unwritten not yet ready to wear,  
this garmented padded book of tales
isn't finished yet, ...

Until a dried rose gets pressed
against the pages of my life,
my eulogy stands told
in this book, of life.

Some draw maps before they go and some well they just go  
I'd like to think that Shambala is the best kept secret of God's grace  
The sun went ablaze at the hour of three am and blinded me  
So high  was I into the air that nausea settled in
I saw a temple in this place, with doors of solid gold,  
and a woman in a brown robe with eyes as bright as coal ;
"Hang on " she said to me " you'll soon be down"  and then
with a smile that broke then sun and pieced it back together  again
she spake to my heart, " welcome to Shambala "
as I re-entered my body I felt a jolt,  
with my heart jackhammering inside my chest

"Here I am in human form but it was not always quite so
earth is not the only planet I’ve been to
through past life regressions, I definitely know"


I can hear the chiming of my soul at large
ding **** clang it goes all night and day
Cinderella in a pumpkin carriage
no glass slipper in this lifetime's array

I can feel the earth beneath my bare feet
it is the foundation of my courseted life
bound by body but not by soul design
I can shapeshift and loosen all my strife

I am made of flesh and bone but spirit too
so when it comes to lifetimes I can have a few
this outer casing one day I will surely lose
as I recall the moves of my everchanging pews

I am zealous and devout carrying much clout,  
but when I shapeshift, I always find another route.

"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."  Mary Oliver  

She became a leaf on a tree, a speck of dust, a limb still attached
shining like the sun she was the light that splayed upon nature's hour
but when the shadows came, she wrote her thoughts on a binder,
and became an evening cornflower.
Hungering by the river's edge she kept her secrets inside her diary  
as she glided with imaginative desire on a silver lake of dreams
A permanent work of art inked and set aside, her words
a filament of nature's calligraphy.
Every pocket of earth described every fern and mushroom narrated,  
by the apex of her linguistic, morphemes.
As the hourglass of time sifted finely down her filtered mind,
sweet poetry was born, germinated and seeded.  
Life grows naturedly so does poetry when the heart is opened
she became part of the all-inclusive in this sweet haven,  
where the everything and the always can only be described,  
by a writer's pen and pluck.

She walked the labyrinth with her head bowed down
and thought of Christ with His thorny encrusted crown
Each rock was interlinked, attached to a circular maze
and as the sun poured, onto the rocky terrain of Falaise
a silent prayer was uttered, as she set Sanctity ablaze

She came from the cloistered Abbey  on Rue de Calix  
having spent so many years kissing her little crucifix
it was a new world here outside, in the soil of France
hundreds of stones polished with natural enhance
its was a time of encapsulated self, in stillborn dance

she awoke  after the war, through Normandy's unrest  
A mother's diary was tucked inside a wooden chest
filled with flourish scribble from an ancient faded nib
It was meant to help a young woman survive and imbibe
she acquired strength, this little girl named Marie Lepine

Inside a velvet pouch was an old stone from the beach
long before the bombardment, a child was out of reach
Polished with the tears of a mother who cried of fright  
for a daughter who was to be left orphaned in the night
She kissed the stone that healed, through love and light.

Note: Tortoises are  land-dwelling while turtles are aquatic

She sat on the back of a turtle
then said  " Go Go Go !"
While he on stumpy feet
       trumbled and humphed
"you are mighty hefty !"
he configured.  
She guided him to the water
then said   "Go Go Go !"
I know you want to, what is stopping you?
"You've mistaken me for a tortoise
little girl !"
She turns around and leads him to land,  
and together they sit in the sand...

Scintillating light you never tire of shining bright
Incommensurable star, you are guardian of wishes    
Leading us silently into the ocean of our sailor dreams  
Every shimmer casts us onto the sea with deep mystique  
Natal super nova beam of beauty you are miraculous.  A    
Calligraphy of ephemeral light,  
Energetically twinkling, you echo every desire.

Silent echoes of my heart beating next to thine
sultry kisses in the dark, tasting fine as wine
Rhythm of our souls, waves upon the ocean
like the ebb and flow of constant emotions

Heart beat to heart beat, we move as one
like the moon circling round the sun
We are stars orbiting one another  
living and breathing, only for each other.