Thoughts that are born late at night.

This Presence
.
.
What is this presence that stills mind’s valley
laden with treasures greater than gold
footsteps soft as if treading upon petals
so silent they hide neath nature’s sounds
leaving impressions void of discovery
while casting a fragrance upon winds of enticement
night breezes dare a pause to gently inhale
.
.
Is this but a specter from altered reality
brought on by a tired soul’s sleep
or wishes life has yet unanswered
surfaced for a teasing twilight treat
to fill a void in a heart of yearning
invade a mind of wanting desperation
or fill the arms with the need to hold
.
.
This presence leaves not a shadow
even the moon dares not to cast its glow
is it savored desires that keep returning
carrying moments of have and wanting
life’s pleasures to dream and explore
this presence is but loving memories
along with fate they gently cross mind’s floor
.
.
© 4-10-14
Tom Masterson