...Sunsetfields (for Ravenwolfhawk)
...Touche me, move me and caress me do
...Falle down the nighte and come into the lighte
...Dance like a fyre and float awaye now be
...There is no morrow when the flame it doth burn this intensely
...she is pure and white...her smiling feet that be bare
...she is parte of this unique magnificient picture
...whether it be starlighte-darque or bathed in midday-sunlighte
...she is to be founde here...fore she is bounde here
...she doesn't hear the earthesbeat...but she feels it and reels it alle in
...she simply is a parte of everything that is ever alle
...she crouches down to brushe a tiny flower
...deftly dancin through and smiling like the verrye golden sun
...she has velveteeen sails and sets a course for inner smiles
...she, she closes her sweet eyes...she counts to ten
...and goes back to her finest hour
...when sunflowers moved by faire summers hande
...this is one of her favourite fieldes
...where the blankets of green and yellow drape and grace
...the straighte-hande of the setting suns flame all but reache
...she peeks above a fallen tree and then is once more gone
...where did she travelle from to fynde me at this verrye tyme
...her head helde high in the natural skye
...spinning like dervishes across summerfieldes
...she will always make her way to here
...flowing in dress running like a waterfalle
...her unkempt hair taken on a blueskye breeze
...fore the wynde to touche and tangle this it muste
...a smile like the birds in flighte and her eyes alive with sounde
...she almost grows in this fine founde place
...a pathway she treds muche
...she helde my hande and offered me a walke
...who am I to decline heaven when it is seen?
...laye downe this velvet dawn
...its where she heard the angels
...here in Sunsetfields
...Falle down the nighte and come into the lighte
...Dance like a fyre and float awaye now be
...There is no morrow when the flame it doth burn this intensely
...she is pure and white...her smiling feet that be bare
...she is parte of this unique magnificient picture
...whether it be starlighte-darque or bathed in midday-sunlighte
...she is to be founde here...fore she is bounde here
...she doesn't hear the earthesbeat...but she feels it and reels it alle in
...she simply is a parte of everything that is ever alle
...she crouches down to brushe a tiny flower
...deftly dancin through and smiling like the verrye golden sun
...she has velveteeen sails and sets a course for inner smiles
...she, she closes her sweet eyes...she counts to ten
...and goes back to her finest hour
...when sunflowers moved by faire summers hande
...this is one of her favourite fieldes
...where the blankets of green and yellow drape and grace
...the straighte-hande of the setting suns flame all but reache
...she peeks above a fallen tree and then is once more gone
...where did she travelle from to fynde me at this verrye tyme
...her head helde high in the natural skye
...spinning like dervishes across summerfieldes
...she will always make her way to here
...flowing in dress running like a waterfalle
...her unkempt hair taken on a blueskye breeze
...fore the wynde to touche and tangle this it muste
...a smile like the birds in flighte and her eyes alive with sounde
...she almost grows in this fine founde place
...a pathway she treds muche
...she helde my hande and offered me a walke
...who am I to decline heaven when it is seen?
...laye downe this velvet dawn
...its where she heard the angels
...here in Sunsetfields
posted by A-Station-With-No-Name at 9:19 AM
2 Comments:
...this is my favourite one, though I envy your Lady-Of-The Heart >>smile<<, imagining the sound of the voice reading the verses.
...tender dreams against sharp blade of reality, longing for caressing verses to survive violent fist of domination...
yes, to survive - as entity, as person, as a woman.
"...My dresses brighten up my room,
like desert flowers after rain,
You come tonight, my newest love,
But which me do you want to see?
The pale pastels are best for books,
My blues and greens, an evening make,
As friend, or even a wife to be.
But if it's sex that's in your mind,
Then red or black and darkened eyes,
Become the whore that I must be.
My childhood dreams were not like this,
My prince came only for a kiss,
Then carried me away from pain,
Can I not see him once again?
The masks offend me, college boy,
I wear my dress without much joy.
The price I pay to hold your hand,
Belittles me as you have plannned."
~Kneya~-The-Moth
...awesome indeed Kneya
"The book without wordes is the best read"
You seem to know me so well yet we have never met (as far as this life allows me to recall!)
Very very interesting indeed
Sunsetfields is for everyone - but fw look to find and even fewer have founde this place...I feel you have...and this makes me very happy indeed Kneya
Anthony
(Wow thats a pretty beautiful planet you have there)
-x-
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