\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2193977-Opus-Periodos-Sanguine-Consperserunt
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Paul Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2193977
something new and different
Opus Periodos Sanguine Consperserunt


I’ve watched lights play through night’s empty darkness
Chased bright stars that linger beneath its canopy
Paths to suns that drive lost souls to distress
Order laid, and calmness so fallen now before me
I could steel reflections from your soft gazing eyes
Moments in memory drifting slowly by
Held here for seconds, in beauty, for all eternity
Drawing me back ‘till I am close by your side
Jittering cogs faltered in time’s aged machine
Stalling those seconds of you held before me...
No echoes of clocks disgrace your beauty or grace
Are we not one while we’re here face to face…

How deftly water slips through sunken pebbles
Glistened and shining, in mocking it revels
Ebbing and surging its white chorused perils
Deep sanctuary safety for tranquillity levels
That slow dance of young lovers hidden by shadows
Softened to hues, sweetened colours so borrowed
Mixing life’s pallet for slow currents followed
Love’s entwined mist and soft rhymes of tomorrow
Heart fallen for heart ‘tis love’s promise unbroken
A true vow for a vow that will ever be spoken…
No echoes from clocks disgrace your beauty or grace
Are we not one now we are here face to face…

draw nearer as bells whisper and pine
day’s quickly ending, ever is mine
dreams of lost youth replay in my mind
‘cross distant valleys unmeasured I find
missed summer meadows always in sight
your hand lent such comfort each long lonely night
hours have bled through our vastness of years
fear ‘so lost for words
these hands long since washed of blood
if only they could heal these searing scars
shaking - marring passages of time
no echoes nor clocks disgrace your beauty or grace
we are now one, here face to face…

in slowed arrival of dawn, do not weep for our night
past our heaven’s now diminished sight
bodies wane beyond their lasting fight
spirits linger as souls speedily alight
your tears blur all visions of our reality
actions spill and senses shed their parity
loss is lost in all its findings
love…discovered all those bindings
forget me not…forget me not…
infidelities of what we have not
no echoes of clocks disgrace beauty nor grace
this we are now, here face to face…


Today I encountered the innocence of scarlet poppies that sprayed and danced over a blanket of a moss green meadow. Swaying lazily upon the soft gentle breeze, shining with drops of fresh rain fall, sparkling tears as dew droplets hanging for a moment of time before they fell to earth or became a hazy steam for the waiting warmth of the brightest sun that threatened their survival. The meadow, its edge freshly mowed to show a border, a power that encircled and encroached in a disapproving act of defiance to segregate. Drowning by its scent - so sweet and intoxicating, forced me to stop and wait. Forced me to breathe deeply for breath - air anew.
In the wake of the scything, I walked over fallen stems like…fallen arms…fallen limbs, an overstated and unnoticed loss of life. Wilting beneath the bluest hue of early summer sky and knelt among the travesty. No eyes met my eyes nor saw my form, in this moment I was invisible.

© Copyright 2019 Paul (paulredfern at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2193977-Opus-Periodos-Sanguine-Consperserunt