Beloved, Mine,

 

spiritual_gate_by_Patrick_Flies.jpg

Beloved, mine,
The days fly
off their spool
like a delicate tapestry
woven from time
that unravels
while sleeping.
Upon waking,
the approaching sun
reveals you there beside me.
I feel a quickening of my soul,
a transcendent drive
to consummate ecstatic union.
I reach out to you
and find you reaching back to me
with delicate hands
and soft touch.
Our lips press.
Our hands caress.
Our bodies entwine.
I enter with intention,
complete in your embrace,
and fall into your eyes.
With every press,
every stroke,
every shared breath,
we reach ever higher.
Our sounds,
like the Song of the Universe,
rise to the Heavens
as the heady scent of us,
like incense,
drifts beyond the atmosphere,
carried by cries of passion
that commune with the Divine.

I turn myself inward,
to see you from within,
and find you looking back at me.
Through your eyes
I see eternity.

We are One.

 


Image: “Spiritual Gate” by Patrick Flies

Myth and Legend

lmpoi

She speaks to me of greatness
An unremembered gospel
A living myth
In the same terms
I speak to her
As she is;

Goddess

Together we are Legend

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Image: Unknown. Came up in a search for Selene and is named “Impoi”. A search turned up nothing. Beautiful work. I’d love to give it credit. Possibly Frank Howell.

I am yours

tres.fleurs.by.Debbie.O.Donnell

My heart
Open only to you
Full in your presence
Empty in absence
Of your embrace
Demands my souls
Complete attention
Drives my mind
My every intention
Fuels my emotions
My devotion
My passion
Quells my rage
Settles my desire
That boundless source
Of all that I am
I am grateful
Slave to your touch
Servant of your love
Witness
Of Divine manifestation
I am humbled
To the goddess
You never knew existed
Within you
If I spent my life
Falling on knees
To hardened ground
In worship
With mouth
Tongue
Finger
Sword
Soul
All yours
To command at Will

It could never be enough

I am yours

 

_________________________

Image: “Tres Fleurs” by Debbie O’Donnell

Good morning, Beautiful

IMG_5589

It is morning too soon.
The night has passed too quickly.
I ignore the clock that demands my attention
command it to freeze
and turn my affection
to you.

The passioned purr
escaping parted lips
with a smile and a stretch.
The low “G’mornin, Darlin?”
a whispered growl
as question.
The feel of you pressing against me
as you respond to the touch
of my fingers exploring
seeking out
and finding
invitation.

I will the rising sun to slow.
To halt.
To give us time.
Time to touch.
To hold.
To join.
To love.

To live.

The earth
caught in the gravity of our passion
slows its rotation.
The clock grows silent
to catch the beat of our heart
the rhythm of our love
and this moment
of ecstatic union
where our two souls join
as One
becomes eternal.

“Yes, my love, good morning.”

 

 

One Night in Mobile

 

daphne.point.pier.al
the sun sets
with jealous rage
a slow watery fireworks
painted on oiled canvas
it’s cosmic wailing
of colored tears
a confession
it’s illustrious dance
pales
against the light
of our souls this night
joined
here
on this silent pier
in full view of the moon
that hides in shame
behind a cloud
and still
the night
is bright
lit by the fire
of our quickened pulse