Little did I expect
to be killed
with your song…
softly
like a burning sage
sweltering, smouldering,
fragrant, in a swirly
smoky mist…
Prickly pines
couldn’t kill
like your song did,
softly…
dark forests trodden
in quiet evenings…
forbidden North Star
‘neath shadowy sunset
gleaming, glimmering…
softly…
rhododendrons,
red velvet
bare branches, and
happy valley, flowering
in ripe cherries,
Wilde’s wild nightingale
singing “bubbling water,
silver jars”
softly…
flew me to the moon
the twinkling shores
beaches and Sinatra,
burning incense,
crackling sage,
softly…
happy valley trance
as you danced me
to the end of love
and velvet, darling…
rendering me…
different.
Somehow,
no longer just mine…
softly…
Smokin’
Oh my…. oh my,oh my…. with a lingering final consonant I do declare this writing so lush, and gloriously evocative ….capable of capturing and holding a breath. The romantic in me swoons unashamedly. Hopeful, you awaken all dreams Dear Ishu…. love lives and we welcome it with open arms 🔥😍
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“capable of capturing and holding a breath” – another romantic swoons! 😘 Thank you dearest Di, and here’s to awakening dreams 🥂
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Your language here was on fire, smokin’ even. This is a poem that should be sung.
“happy valley trance as you danced me to the end of love and velvet, darling…”
Everything so swirling and twirling beautiful.
❤️
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Thank you, Rachel! I must confess, I enjoyed this myself.
Hahha, that’s probably because most of it has already been sung by Cohen, Sinatra etc, dear Rachel!
“Swirling and twirling beautiful” – 😍😍❤️
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💜 it really was.
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