Open Poetry #27 |
Prelude |
IndigoEve Member
since 2003-01-10
Posts 279Etched in the illusion of time |
The twilight dips her hand into the sky, Fragile fingers interrupting its tranquility- Swirl the darkness. Colors stain the looking glass of her heart, Dusky pleasure Rewarded not through a single breath. It is everything that I am, This paradox of changes. Wordless, Full of passion, An understanding not yet met by human eyes. Peaceful aromas to arise, Eventide closes her palms together- Night is here. Born in the lofty tragedy of heaven's sighs Were you, Giving me to the praise of evensong's delight. This milky blackness, Make it mine, make it mine; Beautifully fated keeper of a lover's last demise. Imprint upon me something, Steal my very soul away from me with a kiss, Crowned with vespers fine. One hazy moment to linger on my lips, Oh, sweet it is! You somehow retain all your glory in the imminence of defeat- And let this be the haunting prelude to my midsummer's broken dream. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
I'm going back to read--and experience--your wondrously, descriptive writing, yet again! Enjoyed your indigo thoughts... Warm hugs, Earth Angel |
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El_Campeador Senior Member
since 2003-01-29
Posts 761Ohio, USA |
I like your imagery... “We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best that we can find in our travels is an honest friend.” –Robert Louis Stevenson |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Quite beautiful. I enjoyed reading this... I do believe it's a worth keeping! |
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papabear Member
since 1999-09-17
Posts 102Atlanta, GA |
much enjoyed |
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IndigoEve Member
since 2003-01-10
Posts 279Etched in the illusion of time |
Everyone~I appreciate all the replies and thank you very much! For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, |
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eor Senior Member
since 2002-09-26
Posts 959blues & greys |
again you amaze me with your beautiful words... "in a past life i was a woodcarver's knife: the sharpend blade of a wood cutter, the eldest son of the chief's brother: a maker of drums" |
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