I wrote this in 1995. A camp in the woods, a late night campfire, and a perfect autumn night conspired to awaken my muse mouse. The following resulted:
A firefly: glow dancing in the night
just beyond the edge of light;
A silent choreography of love
in glowing, graceflul flight.
The whispering wind: gently,
gently caressing the trees,
Coaxing sighs, soft murmurings,
from quivering, trembling leaves.
The stars: wickedly winking
at foolish lunar retreats
To hide, shyly radiant
'neath guazy cumulus sheets.
A campfire: casting light,
waves of color and intensity-
Crackling, flaring - sharing the
burning heat of passion.
Time: suspended - caught
on a perfect moment
In an empyreal world
delineated by love.
No comments:
Post a Comment