"motioned" poems
He is;
caving in her walls, raising up her hips
tighten his grips, pulling her into him
crashing her body into his like waterfalls
her jaw drops as he massages her walls
motioned by her motions
his motions are
stirred up with deep emotions
It lifts her up to give him a rise
their thirsty bodies capitalize on the synchronized ride
eyes closed like they are hypnotized
her peaks climbing the highest of highs
temperature rising, fire between her thighs
her soothing heat, his body mesmerized
she came so hard even he is satisfied
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
The pigeons are sad
The pigeons saw that
The future comes with bad
The pigeons were telling that
The prophets born here
The prophet know that
It is the land of kind
, welfare and tied
The religions at that land
The assembly of religions
The peace between nations
Were established there
Here was the prophet David
Who the mounts the trees ,
The stones and the birds,
Repeated his prays
He governed with justice
After him ,Solomon was gotten
He governed with justice
The welfare had increased
And the peace with there
The Romans occupied it
And the injustice appeared
The killing and the theft
Were actually increased
Here was born Jesus
Who invited to peace
At shortest and clear
That was not admired
By Romans or Jewish
Who were there
They planned to **** him
The land became unfair
The decreasing of welfare
The increasing of fear
Till the new nation appeared
The new religion increased
It called for justice
It led to peace
The Muslims achieved a victory
As they built a great glory
And they blockaded the land
The patriarch man said,"
We didn’t give the keys
Except to your leader
Who is justice’s famous"
They wore one of soldiers
The smartest cloth
They introduced him
As the prince of Insurers
as the caliph of Muslims
The greatest patriarchs said,"
That is not the man we did
Actually knew and have red
At our book that mentioned
Him actually as we saw awake."
The leader of soldiers ordered
To sent a letter to the caliph
At bright city wide distance
As he wanted to keep blood
Out of bleeding
He wanted not to ****
The innocent people
He didn’t want to bore
His name over death
His religion ordered them
To save the innocent people
To the caliph to came
The caliph and a servant moved
The leader of the greatest land
At that time, at that moment
From the kind and light city
He read the yassin of holy
Quran that equals twenty
Minutes
For riding the donkey
And his servants walks only
Then the caliph got off only
And the servant rode the donkey
And they read the yassin for away
To count and know time
And mention the God only
Then the caliph and servant also
Walked with their donkey
To rest it also
They keep reading yassin only
Till they reached near the holy
City that mentioned with holy
In Quran with great respect
The turn is on the servant
To get that donkey rode
And the caliph would walk
He said," my prince! I must
Get down and you must
Ride that donkey"
He said," then I will be called
Injustice caliph led the insurers
To be injustice at every talkers
And it is your turn
If the air came to me smelt
With good smell than yours
If the water I drink
Have more delicious than yours
If I created from mud
Made of silver and gold
I will rode that animal
And you must go walker
Ride it my good insurer"
The soldiers saw him
They did great clutter
They wanted to salute him
The patriarch said with amazed,"
See what is that noise?
He looked and said
That is him , that is him!"
The patriarch went and looked
He counted patch in his
The cloth of the greatest prince
Of the greatest Nation motioned
At the ancient, at the present
He said," you are who is mentined!
You are the caliph
"Omar" was the caliph
He gave them the safe deal
That mentioned by his name
The patriarch gave him the keys
Of Jerusalem to him
The time for afternoon pray came
The caliph prayed out the church
The patriarch said
Why you didn’t pray at that
Place at the inner of the church
Omar said if I prayed here
The Muslims after that
Say "Omar" prayed here
And they took it
To be a mosque indeed
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 4:38 AM UTC
*
Never Have I felt a December
So cold, so lonely.
The walk along the lake,
That changed a fate
The stumble in the snow,
I didn’t let go.
The daring walk,
Onto thin ice
Are you watching?
My attempts to see a rise in you.
So delicate was that goodbye
Darkness, up the long road
Upon the destination, no one knew
I ran home,
To see you waiting there.
You waited for me,
For hours I guessed.
This time a true
Goodbye
We made a plan,
So sketchy at first.
Maybe Just nervous?
Never knowing, what could unfold
We changed our plans.
Much more bold.
I rambled on,
For hours it seemed.
Until we arrived,
To a bran new scene
Both so nervous,
But we knew what we wanted.
I motioned you closer,
No cold shoulder.
Comfortably sat,
Until the movie was over
We met some friends, later that night
Continued to smile,
Be polite.
Just dreaming of holding you tight
I think I might…
A gentle kiss upon your lips
I did not miss.
Out in the cold, yet,
All I felt was warmth
The warmness of you and I,
Another night
Goodbye
Sit next to me in the morning,
The bell is ringing…
I’m ignoring
So captivated by your smile.
Again I depart.
Goodbye.
The night before Christmas eve,
We stayed awake for hours
Until our wish
Had finally come true
Its been a year
Since that December
And yet I miss you,
Just as much as I remember
That December so warm,
Now it plagues me with cold
No longer we are.
Growing old
Goodbye
December,
December!
How I hate you now
Drown my mind
In your white lies.
No longer,
Can I see your eyes
I have grown old of these,
goodbyes…
December
The month that will,
Confuse me forever
Lost in the blizzard
Of my mind
We always say that, “truth is hard to find”
Goodbye
DECEMBER
goodbye…
*
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 2:49 PM UTC
He motioned for her to take her place on the back.
He braced himself steady as she slid herself onto the rack.
Once she had settled, he handed her his gunny sack,
He told her keep it safe as he tackled the offbeaten track.
The night was quiet, save for the crickets chirping in unison
Hiding behind the clouds, the moon gave out a dim ominous glow.
The tapper finally felt a tiny sliver of trepidation
He wasn't sure of the outcome, that night would eventually show.
The whole time, he was thinking in his busy little head...
He tried to devise ways to thwart this playful, mischievous being.
But those thoughts of his were quickly derailed instead.
For her perfumed presence was very much intoxicating.
Soon they had arrived at the foot of the hill
He hastened his pedalling to meet the uphill slope.
He would have continued slamming on the pedals until...
He felt her hand on his shoulder clench into a tight *****
He tilted his head back towards his beautiful passenger.
In a calm manner he mouthed the words asking, "What's the matter?"
Her voice came right after in a nervous stammer,
"Would you mind slowing down because last night this was where I had fallen over..."
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
Here above the spider’s bed
Balanced on a tiny thread
Soft the sound his cello plays
In harmony with summer days
~
Melodically he moves his bow
In mystic motioned rhythm’d flow
O’ the cast of crescent moon
Illuminates his wondrous tune
~
A thousand dragonflies appear
His cello sound they long to hear
Now as he plays this mellow song
A cricket choir sings along
~
The audience in grand delight
Embrace the magic on this night
For as all earth has come to know
No sweeter sound than his cello
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
On a tall stone bridge below the falls
I saw a Druid watch the sky.
The wind teased the branches of the great tall oaks
their leaves clattering sound
like the skirt of a desert dancer.
How still the Druid seemed! Unmoving 'midst the breeze.
I asked him what he sought among the hills at twilight.
Not a word he said, but motioned with his gnarled staff
To thick grey clouds above the highest peak.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
The great Mughal emperor of 16th century,
He died of multiple ***** failure,
Comprising of the heart as well as others.
They say that he loose motioned his way to death,
Then the ancient emperor had got a heart seizure.
Dysentery had made the dying emperor weaker.
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 5:23 AM UTC
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a drive through my mind.
I drove when I needed to search for understanding, and then came a time when I no longer yearned to understand.
Objects in mirrors were closer than they appeared. And suddenly…
Life was closer than it appeared whenever it was netted in the echo of a poem.
It began to snow, and the flakes under my headlights turned to shooting stars.
I was so close. So close to…something. I could see the faint outline of a figure…a man perhaps?
Time froze, or maybe it sped up? I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t perceive what was, and what wasn’t.
Then suddenly, he was there—
A man in a dark cloak, standing in the middle of the road, reaching out to me.
I put on my breaks, and the car came to a sudden halt.
He circled around the car, approaching my window. I could not see his face.
I rolled down the window, and he came forward and motioned for my hand, holding out his gloved one.
I gave it to him.
He held it.
I suddenly wanted to die.
I said, “Can you make the suffering stop?”
He inhaled, as if to speak, and then…
I felt adrenaline and fear surge in my veins. I inhaled to ask him who he was, but there was no air. I was full of nothing.
I did not want to hear what he had to say.
My heart palpitated. My vision went black. I opened the car door, and flung myself out onto the snowy ground.
The man was gone.
I didn’t want to drive anymore, so I locked the car, left it in the middle of the road, and walked into the blizzard. I didn’t know which way home was, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to know anything.
Life meets human understanding in the most delicate way, when one finds words to echo reality.
After the pen has scribbled something profound, understanding meets fear in the most unfortunate way. All that once was, crumbles under epiphany.
What is already known is comfortable. It doesn’t require bravery, for we have already faced it. We have already heard the words spoken from under the cloak, and we already have seen the face of their messenger.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
We were in this small cafe on our morning
tea break
Me and some of my work colleagues
Someone inquired after my wellbeing
How I was
I motioned with my hand as if to say 'So, so"
Then I said
"I'm still a bit shaky"
'Why", they said, "what happened to you ?"
I answered "I was in a car crash last night"
"What!!!", they all said really concerned, "you shouldn't have come to work today, you should have stayed at home... you might be in
shock!"
Then I said 'It was only a dream'. I went on "Yea, I dreamt I was in a car
crash
I was driving down this terrible winding
mountain road
Like something you'd get over in Italy
It was like a spiral staircase, going round and
round
All these terrible bends
And the car it's getting faster and I know I'm
starting to lose control
So for a moment I look down trying to figure
out the controls
But suddenly when I look up again we've
overshot a Bend
And We're heading straight into a wall
It's like everything goes into slow motion
You know there's no avoiding it
You can only brace yourself for the impact
And then BAM!! POW**!!! .....
And then I can't remember what happened
after that.
Maybe I became unconscious"....then looking
at them all around the table I said
"Maybe I'm still unconscious, maybe I'm just dreaming you guys sitting here
right now
Maybe the dreamworld is the real world
And the real world but a dream...(tapping my finger on the table) a solid dream"
Then I took a sip of my coffee and said
"One thing...the coffee tastes nicer over on
this side".
May 31, 2023
May 31, 2023 at 4:35 PM UTC
have you ever seem the mouth of a person on psychedelic drugs
their lips stretch in all directions
blissful eyelids creased feeling
little lines
a smile that says
welcome to the limitless universe
you and i drove to oregon in my nightmare
but only after the scary part was over
cruise control
streaks of morning color on the highway when we got to the coast
and drove over the rock
and drove over the wet sand
and drove into the sea
and the waves crashed over us as if to say
welcome to the limitless universe
and silently we answered
at four in the morning you rode your bike to the gas station
the streetlights bled out onto asphalt
ice slick
the illuminated glow-sign posted in the lot
said welcome to the limitless universe
street tires thin as ribbons
4 dollars in your pocket
during a dissociative episode i hit myself over and over
i am still learning how to be kind
i motioned to the spaces around me saying
there is nothing left to find
it is all here, i am here, welcome
to the limitless universe
you breaking my heart is not a cosmic response to all the people whose hearts i have broken
but it sure as hell feels that way and i’m
sorry for the numb that settles over my face to mask
the feelings it wouldn’t be fair to burden you with
so i burden myself and i welcome
the limitless universe
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
A boy named Jake and a girl named Lexi had never met before.
They had a class together last year, but neither one knew it at the time.
They both walked into their Sophomore Drama class for the first time, scared and apprehensive.
Lexi there five minutes before the final bell and Jake, seconds before the final bell.
Jake entered the class and quickly took the only seat on the floor not occupied by an unfamiliar face.
They all introduced themselves, all 27 of them, mostly Sophomores with a few Freshman, Juniors, and a single Senior.It was then, when Lexi said "Hi, my name is Lexis Marilyn Manchester and I go by Lexi," that he first noticed her.
She was cute, shoulder length blonde hair, a floral shirt and jeans, although Jake didn't notice those things at the time. Only her dazzling pale blue eyes, and angelic voice.
The guy sitting next to her didn't say his name at first, even though it was his turn. She tapped his leg and motioned toward the center of the circle the class had made in the Drama Room. Room I7.
He said "How.. uh, my name is Jacob Turner. I don't have a middle name, but I go by Jake."
He was cute. He had short, yet unruly brown hair, a white shirt with the letters "LDTA" on them and nice fitting black jeans. The only thing she noticed about him however were his mysterious pale blue eyes, and for some reason, lack of middle name.
Jake didn't even care that the class had laughed at his lack of middle name. The only thing of importance to him was that when he looked over, the cute girl named Lexis Marilyn Manchester, who went by Lexi, was looking at him. He quickly looked away as did she.
The class went on and neither Jake nor Lexi, made an attempt to talk to the other although they did steal careful looks often. The bell finally rung. It was a seventh period class, so school was over.
On his way home Jake thought of nothing but Lexi, and driving.
He stopped at a sign, only blocks from home. The traffic rushed by. The car behind him did not see his car. They pushed him into the oncoming traffic just as a big SUV hybrid drove by. The driver slammed the breaks but still did not manage to avoid hitting the drivers side door of the small, blue, beat up, Toyota.
The doctors say he was killed on impact.
That's what the school told the small group of friends who were asked to attend a quick meeting regarding the accident. Lexi went.
She thought about him everyday for the yest of the school year.
Even some over summer.
He never faded.
She wouldn't let him for some reason.
He was killed on impact but he never faded.
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 11:32 PM UTC
My hair is a mess of antennae-
Each piece picks up static of days
dead and gone.
I run through the noise with unmanned hands- feeling the weight of each lock.
Where’s the golden child?
The girl with a head full of health?
Of ringlets
yet to be devoured by time, sweat and dissonance.
As I drift I hear the voice of my mother fading- her chord was cut and motioned off-air in the wake of new administration.
Memories trapped in the roots of straightened strands. Her signal comes through as a muffled cry:
“These ends may be swept away,
but my music will still play
through your stereo.”
Jun 21, 2023
Jun 21, 2023 at 3:05 PM UTC
.
"That there Is'belle's house stinks wunderful turr'ble,"croaked Emma Beiler at their quilting bee.
"Jah...vell," sighed Rosanna Yoder. "All them there katzes , ain't so?"
Accordingly the two ladies set out to pay Travis and Isabella Salter a visit, only to be politely told that they had were in the process of taking some cats to a local shelter.
Two weeks passed and to the Amish folks' disgust the odour had merely intensified.
"Them there Englisch are chust liars!" Potato Sam spat the words out along with a *** of chewing tobacco.
" Ach, vell," sighed his wife Rosanna, unaware of her heavily sweating underarms. The Ordnung strictly forbade deodorant as well as perfume. "Reckon I best mosey over and see fur myself."
Travis opened the door with a tired sigh.
'Chust thought I'de ask vhat fur stinks yer house up so vonderful tur'ble...Izzy tells us youse gettin' rid of them but-"
A puzzled look crossed Travis weary face as he glanced toward the kitchen. Irritation gripped him, not lessened as Rosanna glowered at Tabby washing her face on the couch. Then a waft of a familiar scent, overpowering, drifted toward him from the kitchen. Brussel sprouts enhanced by -.
With all the stress, Isabelle was increasing her calming herbs, mixing the powders.... Valerian?
"Good evening, Mrs. Yoder." He motioned her toward the door, locking it firmly behind her. For a long time after she was gone he stood staring out the window.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 1:39 AM UTC
I ate your spinach
because it was there
and you, like an anorexic rabbit,
ignored it, and motioned to my plate.
You said,
*How can you go on
living like a priest
in a **********
Temptation after temptation,
yet still you stay celibate,
your tissues clean of *****
your hands folded above the waist,
as calloused as your traveled feet.*
When does the bird fall it's offspring from the nest
in a spring with a shortage of worms?
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:22 PM UTC
The golden tinge of sun pierced the cloud
But the mangrove held onto its dark cloak
She hid somewhere between the light and shadow
When from one irresistible daze I awoke.
Unbeknownst flamed up the rocks salt white
Dry since the waves receded beyond the *******
A cold loneliness crept up in the spell broken light
As if eons had passed without the sight of her.
Then one seagull’s spriteful fish dream shriek
Motioned me up from the vacuous stupor
Buzzed each sand grain all years’ unborn speak
Was to be seized this moment and tell her.
The wind having carried the voice of her name
Spread it across the mangrove and far
From the receding waves rose a rising flame
When in her hug beneath an acacia I found her.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 3:21 AM UTC
muse,
*she/her has no master, only a mastery;
she, comes compulsing, a physical pounding,
a throbbing impervious resistant to logic or medicine,
which is the so very ever, the peculiar throbbing
of a principled particular “present participle,”*
*write of compulsing is her mocking suggestion.*
*a presence, punishing urging, pas de choix, obey,
submission; write freely but not free, compose or
decompose; is there a difference, no, not, and so ordered,
demand surrendered, how? how? this taking and giving,
can a single act dichotomy be so fulfilling and so emptying?*
<>
wake daily to water canvas, the waves, dabs of paint
protruding, irritating. provoking yet presented silenced,
repetitiously calming, motioned framed within the
white edged sand, the bound-surround of the living painting.
eyes alight, eyes delight, this daily emergence unto
a tapestry devoid of human interference suggests
a differentiating reality; now I understand the how of a
world’s imperfections constituting, tooting its own perfectionism.
this is not lake water; no single flat stone skipping nor
a concentric rippling to a slow death; this is seaward-
bound, an oceans subservient tributary, contributory,
a river, bay, sound - precursors to a vast atlantic infinity.
this is metaphor; this a still life of the perpetuation metamorphosis.
<>
*the muse exhales; as do I subsequently; what difference?
none, she replies to herself, tween painting artist and
verbalizing poet, the un-still life creation, always, always,
different, the essence of diversity in a singularity sameness*
7:13 AM Thu Jul 29
2021
S. I. Sound
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 7:59 AM UTC
early saturday morning i woke
to a smell lost over winters breath,
that of barbeque and meat
stepping outside i could see the
smoke down the street so i walked
down
black man by the name of Myron
was sitting on his steps watching
as these rabbits jumped over top
of one another
he noticed me and motioned me
over
jumping off the steps like a old
man turning young again he
grabbed a white paper plate
and opened the grill
what is it about black men and
bbq, how do they cook it so well?
thanking him, i said i should go,
there was a ton of meat cooking
and i didn’t want to interrupt his
family function
Myron mentioned he lived alone,
that his wife Glenda had passed
away three springs ago and the kids
have all moved away
staring at him closer i realized how similar
Myron was to my own father, only a different
color
my dad sits on the porch during the day sometimes
and i wonder what it is he’s thinking about
when he sits out there
i imagine it’s the same thing we all think about,
death … when is it gonna happen
but before we die we worry about other things, too
like is this our last meal?
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
Pushing a stroller as she walked in a hurry
She was dressed in clothes that were *****
With hair matted and a face of lines that deeply ran
The stroller looked as if it came from a garbage can
Hanging from the handles were ***** leather bags
Covering something in the seat tattered blankets like rags
She approached looking like time had been unkind
But in her eyes a glimmering smile was defined
I opened my mouth to speak to her
And see if I could make a help offer
Slowly she lifted her hand and stretched a curved finger
“Shhhhhh," she said while over her mouth it did linger
Then down she reached for the tattered blanket
I knew that spot was special and private
She picked up a change purse from the seat
Opened it wide as she tried to be discreet
She motioned for me to look inside
It was full of gold dollars to my surprise
She reached in and took out two of them
Then grabbed my hand and I knew it was Him
All of a sudden a fear came over me
A soft voice in the breeze began to speak
"Don't be afraid, you know I Am"
Then she put the two dollars in my hand
When I looked up to thank her
Something happened I’ll always remember
She and her stroller were gone as if she had never been there
At the gold dollars I looked and just stared
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 6:17 AM UTC
1686
The event was directly behind Him
Yet He did not guess
Fitted itself to Himself like a Robe
Relished His ignorance.
Motioned itself to drill
Loaded and Levelled
And let His Flesh
Centuries from His soul.
1.6k
Fatal.
Femme Fatal , seduced by ulterior
motives, the truthful warrior
Kills with peaceful intention
but it is only wicked nonchalance
to; day to day ferocities that mimic hard time , war time , conventions
Lemon yellow pieces of firefly bisquits
Rain down from the fogged fetters.
Lyrical
haze- in soft beat
cheetos
Where sunshine, headlights on fusion cars (expell) expose
the water particles
Suspended in animation - falling- in
slow motioned elegance
like after a shower with the doors and windows closed
the soupy soup soup
of swimming in wavey air...
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC
Wildflowers traced the road’s edges
and danced to the harmonies of Eric Clapton.
My step-father sang to my mother while I peered out the window.
We were almost home.
My step-father motioned for me to sit up front and grab hold of the wheel.
The power of the vehicle drove through my veins
affecting me like Clapton affected the wildflowers.
A quick **** of the wheel sent my family and I off the road
into a world of slow-motion.
Blank images,
vague sounds,
that’s all I remember.
Until I saw my mother
laying motionless, traced by the wildflowers.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
Prom night
She stood there all alone
Tapping her foot to the beat
In the back left corner pocket
The cue ball decided it was time to end the game of billiards
He spotted the eight ball all alone
Nodding his head to the music
And the cue ball called the shot
Into the back left corner pocket
He rolled forward
Steps calculated
Swagger restrained
Sights set on the back left corner pocket
He conversed with the eight ball
Talking to him
Coaxing him to move
Toward the back left corner pocket
The cue ball watched from a distance
Having already imparted all its momentum
As the eight ball headed
For the back left corner pocket
The eight ball was unsure
Dressed in a black button up shirt
With matching dress pants
But he continued to roll
To the back left corner pocket
He motioned for the girl to follow
And hand in hand
They left for the dance floor together
They left the back left corner pocket
The cue ball sat back and admired his work
The other billiards player left
Having lost to the usual call
The winner always sank that last shot
Into the back left corner pocket
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
I see you and I think you need
a stroke, my hairy little friend,
purring as I stroke you gently
my nails caress your skin,
heightened purring teasing you
no words need to be spoke.
I move my fingers side to side,
your starting to get excited, you
love me teasing you more, I
glide my fingers across your lips
wet juices start to flow inside.
I caress in-between my fingers
feel you wetness excited are
we as my fingers explore, I
touch that spot, side to side
my fingers caress you moan
saying you want more.
My fingers explore further
down my tips find that point
and dive deep in to your pool
of wetness.
As in and out not all the way
motioned to keep at it more
juices flow around and on to
the sheets below.
You tighten up and I know
the time is near, you crave my
fingers even more one more
push and you explode, my
fingers wetter than before.
I feel you tighten around my
fingers shock waves flow over
your body I push my fingers
deeper finishing you of as you
lay relaxed and fulfilled, now
its my turn but she says she
to relaxed now,
''HOW RUDE''
I say, but she drifts of to sleep
fulfilled, open mouthed I ****
her juices from my fingers the
only action ill see, your juices
now cold on my fingers as I
**** the last from my finger,
before I too go unfulfilled to sleep.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC
The Ear Ringing Silence
Cuffs My Wrists
A Black Rose
Slices My Forearms
A Hand
Clasps My Neck
Pulling Me
Closer
Vertebrae Start Breaking
Along My Fragile Spine
And My Breaths Are Slowly Fracturing
And My Human Life
Flashes Before My Eyes
Nenookaasi Sits Besides Me In The Timber
Looking Away So She Didnt Have To Look
At My Shifting Body
And As I Complete My Metamorphosis
My Brindle Eyes Stare
Into The Sun's Amber Orb
And I Look At Nenookaasi
Her Dark Hair Covering Her Complection
Before She Notices
I Flee Deeper Into The Trees
She Watched Me Leave
And I Stopped And Motioned Her A Fairwell
As I Ran
To Find My Clan
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 8:49 PM UTC
~
Silence, on waves of our tide motioned heartbeats,
cascading rhythms, a smooth metronome
Keeping this time inside blue water passions,
beneath the surface, the feelings we’ve grown
Hidden so deep in the swells of affection,
swimming the shores of a long summer’s night
Building a fortress of seashell laced castles,
sand dollar curtains to fend off the light
Running for cover as sunrise now beckons,
placing our smiles where the seas can not gaze
Whispering secrets of coast line devotion,
harboring dreams till the end of our days
Lighthouse lit beacons now search as a witness,
beaches a’ shimmer of moon glow above
Hoisting our anchor, we share the horizons,
sailing these oceans, professing our love
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC