Heart's Embrace

Your hearth smoulders,

As fires heighten,

Tense-string melody,

As the fingers tighten

Over the harp- and poetic

Naissance rings out

Winter nights, summer days

Casting the same silhouette,

Shadows playing in the tune,

Twisting, burning flames alone;

Like smoke alight, but tangible,

Reverberating, sultry tone,

By touch ephemera,

Murmurs in the breeze

Of heat, sensation's flight,

Merging figures in utter ease.

Dumb lyricist, no tongue to sing,

So beautiful, pouring her

Passions into the ashes;

Trilled droplets falling, burn.

About the space, the words

Still parade, their own merriment

In glorious blazes of romance,

Snatching every proof of every part.

In those softly burning,

Folding windows,

Into dark scenery- and out of-

Imagination climbs its flow;

Warm coffee-scents are mythical,

Yet still flood up from the floor,

Reversing the fumes,

The subtle smoke drips no more.

Nothing is lost,

When all is renewed,

The broken house built up,

Wrapped up in summer’s hues;

There a moon wanes the peak,

Fully complete, its rounded eyes,

Yet, my own are half-lidded,

Passing the creamy scenes of paradise.

Finger-pricks make the roof,

Cables, running peculiar life,

As harp-strings play on,

A melody spun, revived;

And when your arms form gables,

I’m warmer on the inside,

Emotions on the high-rise,

Passion’s red light covering my skies,

Humming more of that inner song,

Knowing I am in the place,

Safety my own in this reprise,

Resting in the heart’s embrace.

The End

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