A fantasy view of a stormy windswept beach. |
Standing tall on windblown sand, Slivers of burnt gold whipping in the breeze Shifting tides whispering against the land; As like to lover's hiss and gasp and sigh on the edge of pleasure's ghosting heights; - where dreams take flight to hail the skies Then it comes on a nearing wisp. Off the airy fields with softest touches. A dewdrops's kiss dusting lightly on bronze svelte, biting only ever slightly. Showering rough velvet with prinpricks of bliss. Blue skies rolling, gray clouds riding, thundering, louder, closer, whiter. Lost in the myriad of thoughts, the mind's eye delves; Fantasy images, sight captured in eyes unseeing: The wind's mournful howl beckoning The waters lapping against a fading shore; naught more than a spectre's embrace The air growing brisk with the gloom, excitement rushing forward Anticipation whetting the folds and fronds of towering limbs Swaying near and far to the soundless tune heralding the coming onslaught The dampness grows cold on the skin, shivers unmasking the disregarded chill. Streams of fine rivers flowing off the textured tones as equine teardrops become torrents dashing aside the quick forgotten flavor of imaginings Bringing dawning light to haze-filled intellect Visions dancing among the shadows, drifting across the ceilinged expanse lightly trapping dreams in reality. Eyes widen, the skimming chaos of a thousand races bridging the distance As elusive illusions seem poised to entice an on-rushing attack Fixing their gaze on the one figure, lone on the grains of time Sweeping forward, ever drawing close to intimate. As lips draw back on a gasp of anxiety and ecstasy, With the last breath released in a hiss as the storm parts and folds and funnels forward, raging in its blasts and gusts. All things precipitant to the final exhilirating blow, as sands kick up and scatter Seeming as naught less than a tale of Unicorns Landing |