Longing For Saturday
As Friday ends in tumbling hours,
may the starlight kiss your lips while
I rest in the arms of dreams
unrefined...
I may not be with you in the flambe
of a gauzy night caved by dreary toil
but,
whisper a note for me as the breeze
sways a hammock
of an embrace fondled by the new moon.
I humble myself in your presence not,
still,
wait for me to disrobe this façade,
while you can, then…
remember days like other days,
when tokens of warmest joy begin
to unfurl this coiled silhouette
dug in a pile of cinder
while my eyes long for Saturday's glow:
and when the lamp post
of byways are streaked with our fonts' names,
where the brink of my dreams
awaken in your garden of misty eyes so green,
wait for me.
...............
Submitted for Brian's Choice F
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2016
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