You carry silver stars in your hair
I love the feel of your hair on my fingers bare
I see the whole universe in the depth of your eyes
You leave me breathless, my soul soars to the skies.
Your skin radiant like sunlight on meadow
Where I bask in the warmth of your inherent glow.
Your smile, the charisma of a promise untold
Sparking the air like sparkling gold.
Your voice soft in its gentleness
Falling like whisper upon my skin
Leaving my senses on a roller coaster spin.
Your quill spins a spell
A spelling from the soul
The embrace of imagination
In the creation of poetry.
# Lyric
Like this:
Like Loading...
‘Pon my return, Lady Yasmin, I find the above staring seductively, so much in fact, I made my way downtown just to capture You in a reblog to tutor the couth and the savages of Sanford and further. I grin and have to reach for carpet tacks to keep it upward-climbing ’til it circles past my ears and holds hands at neck;s nape.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😂🙏🏼♥️
LikeLike
This from Neck’s Nape (not “neck;s”: hope soon to have time away from transcription duties to spend some hours with you and others who’ve scraped away some of my barnacles past-times: I’ve acquired more such ‘pediments which my own few chuckles crack. Wise of me, neh, to seek stellar services such as yourn?
LikeLiked by 1 person
So beautiful
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you ☺️
LikeLike
“in the creation of poetry” I love that line ☺️
LikeLike
Wonderfully gentle and vibrant words cascading down on me–and lifting up by day!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much, Henry.
LikeLike