Now the full moon pressing down,
lights the trees and lights the ground.
Standing on the forests edge, deathly silence nothing said.
Swift little swallow,
near invisible in flight.
Brush the sky with purple hues,
and iridescence in the light.
Slipping away to the bottom of the
The brilliant shimmer just out of reach.
Falling into the depths, farther away it flees.
I will hide the sun in golden wheat,
and place it by your side.
And catch the wind, summer sweet,
for only your breath to confide.
My head bowed down,
in the dewy morn'.
To turn the soil,
with my gifted horn.
The sky darkens, as if a great raven has opened it's wings over the horizon. Shades of grey, wisp off its edges, dancing and wreathing through the evening air.
The wind begins to cry a eerie song. As though lamenting for the heavens it is engulfing into its inky figure.
The purple and blue hues absorbed into its periphery, becoming mournfully darker blue.
Then the blackness, as if to be
' Twas in the night I took my breath
My thoughts lost in dark skies.
The moon is but a sliver Pricks my heart and stabs my eyes.
The folds of my imagination
My heart has known only brine.
Never would I have understood the curse of the pen.
Or sympathize with the weeping of men.
She gifted me a lock, of her tangled hair wrapped in twine.
'Twas to mark the pages, in the books I read or write rhyme.
In the night, to my face, I hold her twine and tangled hair.
With my eyes closed, I can smell the sweet Balkan air.
I think of you in every dream,
your the silken twine in every seam.
With your smile, with your breath, with your sweet gentle caress.
I follow you through seas of shadows, through secret forests were thine art is hallowed.