are invisible poets of course
writing love stories, of dark moons and
talking oceans
they are all love directed
lost shoe strings, birds shadows
and homeless, magnificent forgotten men
asleep on the fringe of a frozen universe
hands curling inward now
that used to curl around the hem
of their lover's dress
their dreams are a sweet addiction
crying doves and sharpness of broken wing
striking a haunted chord
nostalgic, for the future feels emptier
the past in its own language
longs to give direction
music its own dictation
you must follow the directions
fire building is intimacy
you will surrender and dance around it
moonlight reflects on the water, a phantom -
a longing that pulls you out of yourself
to nowhere so don't stare at the water too long
please beware the hypnotic beauty of music
breaking free like sea gulls splitting the sky
pounding the want from heart
to lips
to touch
to heat
no-one can see what words mean to you
the manuscripts will never rust
they are safely resting within
the pearly shape of moonlight dripping
like honey on wild grasses-
a vacant romance
pulling us out toward the mystery of rain
I wrote this poem over several lunch breaks. I am a lover of words and miss just writing anytime of the day, when I get home after some nine hour days I am exhausted and creativity takes a hit. But for those that do read I can assure you this blog means so much to me, it allows me to lay heart & soul on the page. I will always show up to write here, maybe at a slower pace but I will be here. Thanks to all you that have been loyal readers I appreciate you, and you are my encouragement to keep picking up my pen. Love you all- Vanessa
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