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Tim
Senior Member

since 1999-06-08

Posts 1794

0 posted 2003-11-20 12:19 PM

Sometimes I hear the evening’s falling,
Propitious in her silent calling,
When broken is the sweat of day,
O’ how the moon shines cross her way
Would it be that night’s caress,
Would softly swirl as silken tress,
On weathered brow in rich profusion,
Unguent oil of dark’s illusion.
Beneath the stars, beneath night’s heaven,
Upon the glow of Sister’s Seven,
Rises eventide to greet me,
In the gloaming, as comes to meet me,
I wait for her in trepidation,
fearing bite of her temptation,
But yet I ache of evening’s falling,
Propitious in her silent calling.

[This message has been edited by Tim (11-21-2003 12:24 AM).]

passing shadows
Member Empyrean

since 1999-08-26

Posts 45577
displaced

1 posted 2003-11-20 03:25 AM

sweeeeeet

Edder
Senior Member

since 2003-04-02

Posts 671

2 posted 2003-11-20 08:48 AM

well done!

LeeJ
Member Patricius

since 2003-06-19

Posts 13296

3 posted 2003-11-20 08:53 AM

beautiful

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

4 posted 2003-11-20 08:58 AM

Tim~

Softly stunning~

'Would it be that night’s caress,
Would softly swirl as silken tress,
On weathered brow in rich profusion,
Unguent oil of dark’s illusion.'

Oh yes ....~
*Huglets*
~*Marge*~

~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost,
the spirit rejoices over what it has left.
- Sufi epigram
noles1@totcon.com

Seymour Tabin
Member Empyrean

since 1999-07-07

Posts 31720
Tamarac Fla

5 posted 2003-11-20 08:59 AM

Tim,
A soft reply to the dew in the air.

Sunshine

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-25

Posts 63354
Listening to every heart

6 posted 2003-11-20 09:34 AM

Tim, I swear you moved the clouds last night, and left me nothing but a very clear early morning sky before the dawn, and nothing but jewels to touch.

A Romantic Heart
Member Ascendant

since 1999-09-03

Posts 5496
Forever In Your Heart

7 posted 2003-11-20 09:03 PM

Silent thy words are not,
shinning through the heavens,
Your words are diamonds....

Ringing ever so sweetly,
tenderly like bells,
charming the hardest of hearts...

True poet are thee...sir Tim!

This maiden enjoyed thy lovely sonnet..

~ARH

True poets don't write with the ink of quill or pen, but with the ink of their heart~

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