Swans Under The Stars

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During October whilst the clouds whistled through
My heart ran like black stallions across golden plains
Their hooves floating amidst flowers made rich of hue
Pink petals strumming their magnificent twirling manes
Our hands conjoin icy blue diamond rings winking
From where the Sun’s passionate gaze pierces its soul
Our voices with so much passion now forever singing
Running through these fields where dragon flies lull
How can love like ours be so mysterious yet daunting?
That makes us masters of our romantic destinies
Our past ghosts fleeting within memories so haunting
Must rest amongst grave yards forgiving twinkling seas


My knees are heavy whilst my breath remains calm
Gazing into your light deep-set brown eyes weeping
Such loving persuasion eagerly awaits within my palm
My mind twirling like nervous coins silently leaping
Forward into a magical ocean of courageous aspiration
This old superstition, “Luck, bestowed only upon fools”
Your face glowing like yellow candle-light burning elation
“Yes!” I jump for joy ignoring as gravity pushes and pulls
My physicality symbolizes mortality amongst immortals
Whilst this bitter entity brings me slowly down to earth
Distant sound of bees humming our tune silently chortles
My heart elaborating upon happiness from ashes rebirth


My beating heart spinning, one floating world of its own
While we roll around in the fields kissing and laughing
Where bountiful flowers carrying pollen of love are known
Holding your hand running, “My love, where art thou going?”
My fingers lightly press against your lips, “Let love show you”
Your amber hair flowing like mermaids against the obscure sky
Wherein we come upon a lake, therein lies a boat just for you
I take your hand, “Gentle now,” white full moon drifting nigh
My arms rowing, paddles rippling across stilled quiet waters
Your smile gleaming rich of wondrous desire and loving care
Shimmering bars swim across waves moonlight’s daughters
My breath is held, “I know nothing of a kiss, yet shall we share?”
The paddles fall against the boat’s wooden carcass with a thud



Angels speak, “true passion for love never expiates”
Crickets chirping within the wound of the howling wind
Green frogs croaking and sitting upon soft dinner plates
My hands like pick axes mining what they hope to find
Golden breasts, so tender and lonesome, needing attention
Curiosity for thirsting to know their secretive desires
A magician for love, yet again, disappearing contention
Our tongues clash and dance around romantic fires
The boat is rocking and tipping and mocking our joy
You grab my arms, clenching tight, suddenly, splash!
We both fall into the cool water, scattering orange coy
We laugh and giggle and climb reluctantly into the boat
The horizon painted the river pinkish-red, “What a view”





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