angel, angel did you hear them
they are coming, they are here
in the woods
foreign travelers gypsy ones
I heard the music flutes and drums
they’re shaking gourds rustling leaves
and wooden chimes on woven string
 

start a fire I’ll bring a kettle
welcome them here upon your land
they are tellers of stories and fables
we know these spirits from the sound
they are family/friends the ancient ones
of course they come it’s summer solstice
and similar patterns of harmony would gather
 

gazing, my angel into your radiant face
waking in peace to your heart of grace
laying with you without your armor
the heat of your body, renders me rapt
my hair trickles across the pillow
upon your limbs supple and thick
and rides upon your strength
 

sparkling ground we love the same
spiraling within outstretched arms
you give of yourself so deeply
our union of flowing stream
here in this eternal moment
words are no longer enough
and I’m not whispering stop