Through the night mists the man in the moon settles into the darkened sky... And clouds ride high behind him in the distance, following the father of the night skies upon his journey as he sprinkles moondust into the upturned eyes of those who dream. Moonbeams dance and move in his eyes... Laughter so alive, echoes above in the acherontic nighttime sky. A highway of indigo velvet sleep stretches out across the night as Mr. Moon teaches me to fly the land of a lover’s dream without being seen... I tiptoe softly across the cinema of the Lover’s play, ever so careful not to wake the dreamer; pray tell me... where does one dream end and the other start upon the canvas of a Lover’s heart?
Deb, I thought this had such a wonderful meaning, and it kind of lifted my heart to go there, too. The vision you had of the night sky, with those ever harbingered clouds, in passage, meant come, in some sense, to lift, to there drift, to walk, to play, tht it was allromantic, and held, timmed, as a well, secret, the lid being every so gently lifted, sifted. It spoke of the room of the heart, certinly not often undisclosed, which knows, allows us peak, ever so often, in another room that glows, Al
Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
Reviewed on February 12, 2005
Upon the canvas of a Lover's heart. A wonderful place to have one's name painted and this poem is very much a portrait in itself.
This exceptional book, Celebrating the Gift of Being Alive, has the perfect thoughts and words for birthdays, graduations, engagements, marriages, and any life celebration or family tradition.
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