*
On days which felt like so many raindrops without relent
Always wondering where Time stops, how to repent
My love, yes that eternal version, no clocks, hands nor promises to be withdrawn,
Dared I to pray for favor amongst the dicing knives which butcher Fate
To paint for Night and to dream a pretty picture right beyond such fields as frame
My every silent syllable breathed an intonation the evocation of your name
Shared in secret longings burning bright as morning songs never so late,
The moment moving to an instant turning upon a thought and where
Appears an image in the making as though predestined to be there,
Once as I awaited a vision, flesh and blood and light arisen like the dawn
My love, yes that eternal version, no clocks, hands nor promises to be withdrawn...
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 1012 times
Written on 2013-11-25 at 00:43
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That Eternal Version
Once as I awaited a vision, flesh and blood and light arisen like the dawnOn days which felt like so many raindrops without relent
Always wondering where Time stops, how to repent
My love, yes that eternal version, no clocks, hands nor promises to be withdrawn,
Dared I to pray for favor amongst the dicing knives which butcher Fate
To paint for Night and to dream a pretty picture right beyond such fields as frame
My every silent syllable breathed an intonation the evocation of your name
Shared in secret longings burning bright as morning songs never so late,
The moment moving to an instant turning upon a thought and where
Appears an image in the making as though predestined to be there,
Once as I awaited a vision, flesh and blood and light arisen like the dawn
My love, yes that eternal version, no clocks, hands nor promises to be withdrawn...
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 1012 times
Written on 2013-11-25 at 00:43
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text