The first of passions with a faceless memory and the youthful lessons of a nubile girl.
~*SKdeV*~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Midnight's dark moon aflow on the waves
Innocence calling- "try to behave"
Silhouettes bond on beaches’ white sands
Walking embraced... hands gripping hands
Thoughts all together, a sameness festooned
Hearts raw and beating under this moon
Louder the silence of midnight forsakes
Two lover's passion... pushing their brakes
Each step of innocence comes a new dare
Caressing this mystery and pleasuring cares
Reaching for something , risking their ruin
Touching the rhythm of their own wrong-doing
Collapsing on sand dunes...legs weaving slow
Bathed in the moonlight's phosphorous glow
Body's heaving with each rushing wave
It's too late now as nothing behaves
Moisture is beading as energies fly
Arching to arches...moans meeting sighs
Thunderous lightening with no storm in sight
A dance with the devil in the pale moonlight.
...and a new dare, no under....
Love how your rhyme and meter is so perfect, as it gallops on the page. Coleridge had the same skill, between heroine and booze.
Great to be reading you.. x
This "hits really close to home," Susan. It's all part of this "journey" through this life in this place and dimension I suppose. Thank you. Love and best wishes,
Susan this one really made me think for not only is it passionate and lovingly exciting it also made me wonder how something so natural as two young people who desire each other making out can be such a sin...did God decree this or did the religions of man.
fee
wow--love this line! "It's too late now as nothing behaves"
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on January 12, 2010
Satan's Samba moving right along. I was picturing the beach shot in "From Here to Eternity" as I was reading this. I was also remembering my own fumbling attempt and successes in the Devil Dance . . . Gotta love it!!!!
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
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Ron
Love how your rhyme and meter is so perfect, as it gallops on the page. Coleridge had the same skill, between heroine and booze.
Great to be reading you.. x
Regis
fee
I can see the devil whispering in your ear,
"Go ahead, no one will care"
Has your vintage trademark.
This a most beautiful write
sensuousness at its best
"Bravo"....love & Peace be with you
William