Golden

Golden Olive

The count down slow and elegant!
Unwinding sails like cobras on strings in skies with silver moons!

Wings of silver and gold; Illuminated skin like fountains in white pearl,
Waters of harvest moon upon her lips; Strangely places that light with tales..

Tales of pirates and movie queens; Silver candles in the wind..
To remember her words so heavy as the flicker of candle fills her lips,
Scented of roses & wild olives.

Building on heavy breath; Hot like oven bread ...
Breathy as the wind .. Scented of corn & Whole meal bread ...
Cinnamon and honey on her breath..

Strangely earthly for a dream of angel wings,
Her hand touched me with a whip of clovers ..

Into the fields of my dreams; Her Mind brought words to my lips ...
Shut like a door on the shadows of her wings.

Memory of a rose, Thorn of the passage .. Wherein all dreams become reality,
Certain that tomorrow is today in the delirium of pleasure..

So word the rose, her lips.. to mine.. darkness wed as of light..
Meeting the morning sun, Sunder not this rose.

DL