The moon hangs blood-red tonight.
my lover and the old man in the moon
are deep in celestial meditation.
I am the only mortal
who can see and appreciate
the mystery; her enchanted ways.
I stand very, very still
listening to the moon and my loverís serenade.
My uttermost fears are soothed forthwith
music unlike any I have ever beheld
speaks words to moi
with such a voice of love you cannot imagine
my lover speaks to me, I am with you always
though it may seem Iím faraway
and not paying attention
I am here . . . forever.
Her voice soothing and delicate
makes me think of word/jazz.
I was struck dumb and could only nod
as the lightest
feather-soft brushed against my lips
bells pealed somewhere
sealing into my heart calming words
my lover has just spoken
and the mysterious melody composed
by my lover
and the man in the moon
tugged my heart with a gentle caress.
I understood that
the gentle brush upon my lips
was my loverís enchanted, delicious kiss
leaving the scent of
ripe peaches upon my mouth
©June 23, 2017 / Jerry Pat Bolton
~ If they give you ruled paper, write sideways. ~
[This message has been edited by JerryPat2 (06-23-2017 06:11 PM).]