Fell into a fine reverie, a mood I suppose...
Written as a sort of movie script to the
Subliminal Cinema.
(mermaid islands rising spirit murmurs from the waves)
Feel his innocent, wicked grace as gentle verses touch you with such exquisite tone
Found you musing all alone beside your quietly aching sea, your living palanquin
Incantations of these glowing petals he has wrought to paint with words to brush your skin
You blush away the thought of how it feels to have him breathe in the fragrance of your hair
Is it you, or someone else behind your moonlight eyes, inside your smoldering satin and jasmine paraffin?
(a moment of utter reverie stolen from the very sparks which go to light which seem to steal the air)
there, there there, and here I find you clothed in only in the barest mere
drawing closer as one sometimes does with someone in mind somewhere
Reel like an angel gypsy princess starring in a secret film where the shivering frames
All turn to blazing, yearning moments of living fire, as he kneels to kiss the sweet shadowy flames
That conceal the pale nape of your neck, the halcyon hollow of your throat
A charming villain your heart suspects, you let loose all care
Everything known begins to float into the starry drifts, he lifts your feather light form into the falling night watch him dare
To cradle you so closely into his arms for yours, for his first soaring kiss the eternal thirst
To know mortals may taste such forbidden ecstatic bliss
Composures Sigh and melt into their midst,
Only in verses free from pain, no harm occurs
Disrobe in a tender rain of warm, soft words
(in a sense he always was the rain falling, into the sea she is herself again.)
And what of him?
He is only a ghost born into an island
Praying to the ancient gods for the sea to rise...
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 660 times
Written on 2014-02-16 at 23:52
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Written as a sort of movie script to the
Subliminal Cinema.
In A Tender Rain
Disrobe in a tender rain of warm, soft words(mermaid islands rising spirit murmurs from the waves)
Feel his innocent, wicked grace as gentle verses touch you with such exquisite tone
Found you musing all alone beside your quietly aching sea, your living palanquin
Incantations of these glowing petals he has wrought to paint with words to brush your skin
You blush away the thought of how it feels to have him breathe in the fragrance of your hair
Is it you, or someone else behind your moonlight eyes, inside your smoldering satin and jasmine paraffin?
(a moment of utter reverie stolen from the very sparks which go to light which seem to steal the air)
there, there there, and here I find you clothed in only in the barest mere
drawing closer as one sometimes does with someone in mind somewhere
Reel like an angel gypsy princess starring in a secret film where the shivering frames
All turn to blazing, yearning moments of living fire, as he kneels to kiss the sweet shadowy flames
That conceal the pale nape of your neck, the halcyon hollow of your throat
A charming villain your heart suspects, you let loose all care
Everything known begins to float into the starry drifts, he lifts your feather light form into the falling night watch him dare
To cradle you so closely into his arms for yours, for his first soaring kiss the eternal thirst
To know mortals may taste such forbidden ecstatic bliss
Composures Sigh and melt into their midst,
Only in verses free from pain, no harm occurs
Disrobe in a tender rain of warm, soft words
(in a sense he always was the rain falling, into the sea she is herself again.)
And what of him?
He is only a ghost born into an island
Praying to the ancient gods for the sea to rise...
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 660 times
Written on 2014-02-16 at 23:52
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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