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[personal profile] gryphons_quill

Our land is green and fragrant as the dew
that glistens in the dove-grey light of dawn,
where sunlight pools as day begins anew,
caresses every hilltop, lights upon
your upward-tilted face, the lines of you
as clear and clean as any newly drawn.
A living piece of art.

On winds and wings that sing the swallows dart
and trembling dawn gives way to breaking day.
The light is living now, a thing apart,
as vibrant as the land, as soft as clay;
the beating earth is red. So is my heart,
given to my love so fair and fey,
and ringing with the sun.

The daylight lingers long; as rivers run
lightly through the crevices of land,
just so I trace your burning skin, fine-spun
as courtly linen, golden as salt sand.
I could seek for softness yet find none
near half as strong and tender as your hand.
You touch my very core.

The gloaming-tide that creeps along the shore
brings magic, not arcane but simply this:
your sun-bright touch bestowed remembered lore;
now lips remind me of forgotten bliss.
In the mythic edge of evening, I adore
discovering the sweetness of your kiss.
I thank you for this boon.

In darkness lit to silver by the moon
that, crescent-sharp, will rise to kiss the skies
and tease a touch of magic from the dune
that cradles us and catches whispered cries,
I hope to learn a shared and sacred tune
from my reflection dancing in your eyes.
Time is winding on; each day begins anew,
and still I sing my song for love of you.


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December 2010

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