Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Disasters, Delights and Other Detours - 92. Appassionati
Summer
The morning star has given way
to colors at the break of day,
in all their fabled panoply
before the sun
starts on its daily run
the birdsong to accompany.
Night’s storms and thunder are undone
as fresh winds from the north are spun
the moment dawn thought best to play
where sky meets tree
when one looks easterly,
the riven clouds to chase away.
The shadows from our blankets flee
and soon will daylight dapple thee,
so now, before the morn’s begun,
let us obey
that urge for sweet delay,
so two, entangled, be made one.
Winter
The sky above seems grey and cold,
and mirrors say that I am old,
but understanding is not theirs;
for they mistake
the green, new sprouted ache
for you is nothing that compares.
I cannot quench this inmost fire
Which burns my heart with swift desire
And leaves me breathless in the heat
Beneath the sun
Which overhead must run
Despite the bitter snow and sleet.
Outside the window all is white,
But in our room the flames burn bright
And shadowed, play upon the spread
Where I lie back
Awaiting your attack,
Upon my soft, surrendered bed.
Should you have a comment or reaction to these, I'd be very glad to see it. I appreciate any thoughts you may care to leave.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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