Dream Weaver
I fell asleep with your voice still
singing in my ears.
I drifted slowly into slumber
with nothing but you on my mind
Distant drumming in the wind
fell like raindrops dancing
on my windowpanes-
they tell me you are coming
Yes, you're coming home
White feathers fell upon my
eyes and slipped down my face
landing softly upon my pillow
and when I awoke
I found feathers in my hair
Dream Song
Lying sleepless, I search
for the stirrings of a midnight song
from Morpheus
Where are you, Sire?
My eyes grow weary,
but my mind will not sleep.
Aurora has shed her cloak
and spread them across the cosmos
yet, you stay silent.
Why, sir, do you wait?
I must enclose myself
within your music
cocoon each thought within slumber
I yearn for peace
encased in notes whispered
across the darkened sky
so I might fly silently
to love I cannot find
when I'm awake
Angel and Muse-Beginnings
sleep evades me and my minds spins-
mc play.
I feel your touch, your kiss-
lips so soft, so...mine...
I want them to be mine.
I see your hands wandering
all over caramel skin;
fingertips drawing lazy o's from
ankle to the apex of my *sighs*
you are the wall of flesh on which I lean
lightning and flash-denim and lace
hand lost in strawberry-scented curtain
pulled back to expose the target
on the base of my neck
pulse point taste-check
ah...smooth...as I slide
from mouth, to shoulder
to belly to...a few hours later
where we lie together
blanketed with sweat
and smiles and the words...
"one more time..."
Time...(I miss you)
2/19/08
frost bit at the windowpanes
as I stared at the burgeoning
silver moon
it's cold out there,
beyond the stars-
beyond my reach
"I miss you…"
Creeps up behind me
And I sigh
It's been so long since I've seen you,
Heard you, felt you
But my hands have not forgotten
The angles of your face
The strength of your shoulder
The soft of your kisses that cling
I can feel the tangle of your fingers
Through my hair and the weight
Of your body against mine
Time...so much time
And yet your voice before sunrise
Rings clearly in my ears
She Slips
She slips within the room
and not a word is uttered
no one sees her, senses her
yet
she'll speak,
demolishing the silence,
when she's ready,
but
not right now
in this moment
she is a shadow
cast upon the wall
by the glow of candles
she swirls and sways
like the smoke
that spins away from incense
filling the room
she is everywhere
and nowhere at once
until he notices her,
feels her
only then
does she become
real
An Angel and a Muse
Part One
The Muse…
Her hair spills across the floor
like chocolate syrup and caramel.
Against the indigo sheet
her bare honey skin glows.
As she looks upon me
with arms out stretched
I see the light of promises and
passion in her eyes.
She’s enchanting; an ethereal being who
knows not of her powers.
She has the strength to capture any man,
yet she chose me.
I feel her body rise to meet me as I kiss her.
My hands have memorized each curve and every line.
When her fingers run through my hair and
down my back, I lose myself.
As we meet and link like pagan lovers
and bodies meld with sweat and shallow breath
I know that I have loved her once before
for loving her is finding my way home…
Part Two
The Angel…
When he looks upon me I am beautiful.
His eyes of green sea glass sparkle in
the candlelit eve of a stark, cold
winter night.
His alabaster skin hides a primal hunger
that lights the flame that keeps me
warm when I’m alone.
I need the heat of his touch.
I watch him as he bathes me with a passion
he shares with me like cold to evening snow.
And when we kiss I rise with satisfaction for
he feeds my hunger with the nectar of his lips.
His hands caress like morning sunlight
awakening the dreams I thought had died.
Within his arms I’ve found rebirth and blessings;
gifts for a fallen angel from her muse.
Angel Wishes
Perched upon a rooftop she waits. The light of the full moon casts a silver glow upon her silhouette. Her long, dark hair blows haphazardly in the breeze as she stares into the star-filled Autumn sky. She’s been to those stars; danced among them with her muse; made love to him as the sun filled the sky. Absentmindedly, she runs her fingers through her tousled hair, a smile of contentment on her face. She unfolds her wings as she stretches her arms sleepily above her head. She wraps her wings about her in the form of an embrace in order to ward off the cooling night air. Still, she stares into the ebony sky line.
Her chocolate brown eyes seemed mezmerized by the twinkling lights off to the east. Her muse is there, she thinks to herself. He with his wavey, dark hair that rests just above his shoulders. He, with the eyes of green sea-glass crushed and swirled with sapphires and peridots; eyes that speak without words. He, who claimed her heart and gave his as a token in return. For him, she would fall. She would gladly shed her wings if he so asked, but he never would. Oh, no. She was perfect in his eyes, yet she wondered why, though she would never question. It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered is that they lived within the same sky, landed upon the same earth and slept in the same bed.
With a deep breath and a sigh, she stretched again. Her muse will be here soon, but soon just didn’t seem to be soon enough for this angel. So, as she sits and waits, she’ll count the stars and give them names as she wishes for time to move swiftly so that they might be together again.
Exhale
he exhaled the cosmos in one breath
and I watched silently
he filled the night with
no-never-minds
and still I watched
as moon
dust flew in a cyclone
awe sparkled
like a jewel inside
And with one whisper
from my softly parted lips
he took my soul and scattered it
among the stars
Musings
Words, lines, phrases keep running through his mind.
He takes his books and pens wherever her goes. He’ll scribe
or draw whatever strikes him at the moment. Creating art
with his hands is neither tedious nor drudgery. When he performs,
every twist and sway of his body in the midst of dance sends an
explosion of infinite expression. It is his passion; his calling. He invokes
inspiration, for that is what a muse does. Although, there is a being
that can inspire him.
He stands behind her as she gazes out the curtained window. She holds the fabric against her as the moon arises in the western sky. The moonlight tints her skin a silver-blue hue. She is beauty. This angel outshines the stars. She belongs in the sky, but she’s here with him. Here stands a muse in the shadow of an angel and he pays no mind nor feels loss. It is his job to invoke inspiration; that is what a muse does. But here, in her presence, he is inspired.
All that he creates, be it with paint, with dance or with words, she is never far from his thoughts. This beauty with long, flowing dark hair and the deepest, darkest stare has stolen his heart. When she smiles, not even the sun can compete with the glow of her face. Her laughter carries the earth in a dance and he follows along side her.
He reaches out to her and softly lays his hand upon her shoulder. She turns her face and gazes innocently, lovingly, into his blue-green gaze. As she smiles, he envelops her in his warm, commanding embrace and she enfolds him with her wings; an angel and a muse stand as one.
Angel Tears
Storm clouds of dark and light
fill the mid-autumn sky.
The winds cool and begin to blow
Minute by minute the angel slips
further into haze without
inspiration from her muse
"Come back!" she pleads in an anguished,
lonely voice as her sadness streams rivers
of unsaid good-byes.
Meet Promise of Light Members
