BloOming with the flowers

BloOming with the flowers

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Autumn was ours...still is...

The brisk winds weathered gentle screams in the haze of ruthless shades
And we swept in with foreign verses that drenched them to a mute
Threading our dominion to the quakes of autumn,
I watched my outlines bind into your being
Your buzz penetrated us to ascend from galaxies
As you left me plagued with jitters that descended into the soles of winters bruised blue and I smelt the divine realms of our kingdom…
The odour whiffed through your senses as your expressions curved into seasons
Our angels have flown
I saw them wave as they passed seagulls and faded into seizing colours
Earthly dyes detained us like the hushed screams of the squally weather
Into nothing but natures serene gape
My lips forever ached to bathe your pitch into stillness
We orchestrated in the core of the universe
And you melted into the empathy of my motion
And still music has yet to leave our mornings

The vigorous moonlight captured the leaves from the fallen trees
and marvelled them to our own festive shadow and I was instantly hounded to cease rainbows in that auburn coast we fell in love with.
Maybe we exposed our inner streams to early,
because after that insistent flush your eyes watered my pupils at every serenade set.
the notes played on my pacific lanes of crimson hues
As I crossed the midnight mile to arc colours inside your fever, you swelled endless blessings that poured down like raindrops with the chocolate crisp savour
And still music has yet to leave our mornings.

We birthed more angelic wings
That flew into the winds that smeared tints of saintly whispers
Heard as mortal feelings needle on earths dust
Rippling into our zest to flourish
And becoming stringed to forever and a little longer
Eternal in mother tongues that neither of us knew would splash our lovemaking on higher ranks of touching, tasting and purely enjoying this…
Through all seasons our prophecy hissed…
Music was never meant to leave our mornings

Heed and navigate us through brisk winds that stripped the rainbow of its auburn colours. Stroking my autumn crumble. Battering the screams into our pious silence.

No comments:

Post a Comment