fireflies moving like finely shattered starlight
against the sky-shaped gown of evening;
the wind tongues its lascivious moans in the ears of the leaves,
whispers sweet nothings to the world.
the blue of evening turns velvet,
indigo, lingering like an unspoken hope;
the singed moon waiting.
you, beside me, thick-sweatered against the approaching cold,
we watch the fire's last flames lick, hesitate, die;
our soft voices, sweet, like pigeons brooding.
my words bear my longing up into the darkness like sparks
Gordon, I love this love poem. The imagery is so vivid. And each, and every sing line...perfect! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Intense, imaginative and passionate and that crescendo finish. Very nice!
Thanks, Captain - much appreciated!