Spectrum

Standard

your laugh is like a wandering cloud of Winter,

caressing the moonlit sky, as if sweeping

the diaphanous veil of desire and demure

with trembling touch of new found love

 

among the dark tresses of unyielding beauty,

you are hiraeth of a selenophile, a longing

flickering phenomena of silver triangles

surmounted they twinkle, upside down

 

shimmers of stardust engulf me

perennial pirouette of love and its feeling

empyrean scatters of light, such iridescent gleam

through roses and sunflowers, it found me…

 

©Written Frames, 2018

Look at the skies and you will see what you feel.