dusk of night twilight
clouds turn off the blue goes black
as the sun sets left
but the still black night
all yet now so very still
twilight of dusk night
8/23/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2023
Staring into the written moon
Words illuminating my space
I stand still inhaling syllables
Lost in the story’s embrace.
The pages cast a shadow
Imagination in the shade
Lyrical mating of the mind
A literary serenade.
Trees of erudite branches
Fallen leaves of knowledge
Raking piles into my memory
In hopes of paying homage.
Spellbound by the paragraphs
The smells of inky dew
Entranced by this moment in time
Appreciated by only a few.
Bright morning star that, in the frosty dawn enfurled,
Arrives like a fleeting herald of the sun,
Return, I beg, to your nocturnal world.
Return and let this silent hour run
Yet a while. Leave her in my arms to pause
Locked in this frozen twilit time.
Overturn all the temporal laws.
Vanquish therewith each clock and chime.
Eternity spent by my love’s side
Should seem like seconds racing on
Keen seconds, that pass with a marching stride
And leave me wondering where they’ve gone
Till nothing have I within my power
Except to hang upon this silent hour.
© Barry Freeman – March 1998
The days where the morning dusk ,
Stars timorous to light up at night.
A drop of clear salty liquid
rolled like rainstorm,
At last Love brought grievance.
Deluded by your love
Illusively dancing with you in white,
In a desert filled with roses.
Where fearing Love
pays death servile breath.
An augury which may never be,
Stupor by this love,
Disguised as felicity,
Let it be known that your love
portends the End of my Days.
how could you sleep
i never thought i would
when your aroma
lingers by my side
how could you sleep
i never thought i would
when our adventure
runs through my veins
how could you sleep
i never thought i would
when all the reasons to believe
are quenchin´ my thirst
how could you sleep
i never thought i would
life opens up
in this twilit atmosphere
The night wore on
under the twilit moon –
purple, half-sunk,
half-risen over the flaming sea.
Thoughts twirl
and ebb and flow
and curl up against jagged stones,
clinging to the only safety
the mind has ever known. A car,
an infant, a teardrop mother:
all waiting silently
for that peace to come.
But lo, here’s innocence,
bright-shining under a starless sky;
purity of youth lost to age. And thus,
there find me, cold and broken,
aged past morning
and into evening. Now here I sit,
under a twilit moon –
purple, half-sunk,
and rising into the gloom.
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