We said goodbye to dusk,
filtered in the shadows of
the stars, with the subtlety
of the sun looming over the
darkening horizon – we lost
ourselves under the lights of
the sky, sun-kissed in gentle
waves of a pleasure and in a
promise; we held on to each
other, knowing our own limits
but with the subtle passing of
glances between the sun and
moon, we had realized how a
love could truly be so infinite.
I am nestled in an embrace
inside the crook of your arm,
where dreams are rocking us
into lullabies, and secrets are
no longer screaming, where
the only truth is of love with
an understanding that comes
long before the sun is rising,
where we can lose ourselves
in the little things, and where
love is found inside your arms,
nestling our hearts together in
comfort and dreams, where an
embrace steals the night away.
In the light of celebration
when musings come out to
play and laughter fills the
outline of trees, stemming
from the tips of flowers up
towards the sky – there is
music found in the shades
of early March; where you
and I are dancing between
the gardens, left untouched
by chaos and foundations,
soothed in gentle melodies
with us reflected in shades
of subtle Jade, set against a
celebration of sound and life.
At the edge of the world,
where the sun is falling to
the ground, and the horizon
is only a meeting place for
two hearts at dawn and dusk;
where the tree line trembles
with every brisk kiss before
the rays converge in one last
embrace, soothing the earth
in love and redemption – we
are two hearts of an opposite
nature, grasping at the roots
for any chance with the other,
knowing our love to be true
like a guarantee of the rising
sun, we meet at the horizon.
Take me back to the sun
peeking through the clouds
against a backdrop of the
mountain side, with shades
of green becoming a warm
embrace as the breezes are
bouncing between ridges
beckoning us to play; take
me back to the mountains
with my love by my side,
wandering the lands where
the trails and foothills meet,
hand in hand waiting for the
moon and stars to rise – take
me home to the mountain side.
I crave lines of poetry
on sides of mountains,
where I can bury them
under the stars into the
untouched ground and
blend them to ash and
soft charcoal; watching
verses sprout onwards
in and among the trees,
and kissing creeks, with
a delicate brush across
mountain tops in time for
the setting sun to whisper
goodnight, and then recite.
As silent as a rose,
left to the sun in the
hours of spring, with
light echoes from the
trees rustling against
thoughts as though
there was only ever a
chance at happiness,
ready to fade out in
the days of summer;
you are silence left
at daybreak, a single
chill in the air when
the days are shifting,
holding onto a fear of
what change will bring.
I once danced
with the moon,
a tango at dusk,
with whiskey on
the horizon and
jazz on repeat –
the stars in awe,
with our hearts
gliding in time
to rhythms past
twilight, waiting
until the sun rises
to finally catch a
breath with the
morning breeze.
I follow her laughter
like the blossoming of
flowers follow beneath
the steadfast fall of rain –
in sprouts and in sonnets
of the late hours of May,
her laugh is like spring;
with a sweetened aroma
filling the season in the
lightest of droplets falling
against lilacs to the tunes
of love and jazz, where
her smile sets as the sun,
guiding me into dreams.
I held onto her laughter
as an echo past her heart,
beating out sonnets to a
fair rhythm of jazz in the
rain – where each giggle,
lightened in a sigh was a
stem of a heartbeat left to
blossom in the reflections
of the rising moon. I held
on tighter to her laughter,
tangled inside my embrace
as newly found promises,
hoping to bottle them up,
and set my dreams on fire,
with the echoed chanting
of a sonnet kissing the rain.
Storylines in Verse 