Silver moss listens
For the approaching footfalls
As love on the wind …
Silver moss listens
For the approaching footfalls
As love on the wind …
Come to me said she
Words in silence spoken still
Echoes sweet refrain
dreaming on the wind
waves roll in visions
clouds billowing past
in shadows of the moon
long horizons fade beyond
all we can imagine
ships sinking into waves
flowers drift past in reverence
to color the memories
of lives and loves lost
in the foolish attempts
to conquer our own hearts
~ For Doug in memory of his beloved Dorothy ~
Somewhere in time
is the place where our love
is written in pages unending
To turn in my mind
as real as the sunrise
your heart painting colors in me
Far from the morning
we’re dreaming together
walking in rhythm and rhyme
I still feel the Seine
keeping step with our hearts
reflecting her waves in your eyes
As the flowers all blush
in city of lights
while Angels gather amazed
To gaze at two lovers
one starry night
lost in a moment forever
Yes words can fill pages
tho’ never enough
to tell all the stories of us
Still always our stories
of love will surround me
with whispers felt soft in my ear
a memory of being
present
walking
in all the times
known to us
~ hidden
in the discontent
and all the chatter
surrounding the coming
and going from places
dreamed or planned
or happening to be
such are the days
where flowers bloom
and moonlit nights
where love shines
tides ebb and flow
heedless of our whims
Presence in the wind
love moving through
a dream we call life
days answer to ears
Not listening to voices
carried on the breeze
along with sea spray
the scent of plumeria
Calling lovers together
to hold on once again
in a the sharing of light
and silent echoes
of hello
There is always flowing
a way to ourselves
the nature of being
like wings on the wind
Reminder of entries
into the world
where silence forgives
the questions beyond
A day in our dwelling
left lost in the light
Time sets us apart
Fire cooling into water
Turning with the earth
How can there be words
without the ears to hear them
the pages writ in spelling
all the ways to listen in
to time spent in the heart
digging through the ruins
of the days spent in between
the dark nights of the soul
All the wing-ed’s crossing o’r
soaring through the pines
a sky the eye somehow missed
whites wisps electric blue
drift away the day’s remains
drifts to the earth as letters
leaving what was willed without
the embers slowly fading