My Heart Holds My Pen
Soft flurries of affection
find my eyes lost in the prism
of the beauty that engulfs my world,
for to inhale is to fall into
the scent of sweet essence floating
the breeze exhaling from your skin
You slumber, silence caresses gently
while phrases of euphoric devotion
gather within of this angelic vision,
a smile appears, perhaps dreams of us,
morning glory vistas full abloom,
as I reach for pad and pen
Words pour on the page,
my fingers dance in rhythmic patterns
now wrapped warmly about my thoughts
and I wonder quietly to myself,
where is it they are born,
how do they flow so easily
From this mind that constantly spins
in whirls of enchanted visions,
heavenly views and frantic desires,
where each vowel, noun, adjective or verb
in feathered shapes of ink, somehow
scribble silhouettes of my love for you
It is now that I notice, while
sitting in the frail sunshine of the dawn
whispering from an awakening horizon
that my hands are empty, my fingers barren
for it seems as I write of my love for you,
it is my heart that holds my pen
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016
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