There, if you listen surely
You will hear a siren’s song for mercy
The tone as mesmerizing as she is
It will cause you to question this reality
Her reality, and
The reality of those who do not hear her.
Who is the chosen one?
He who hears, understands the song and watches over her,
Or the others who are blessed with the ability to move along, oblivious?
Might it be them.
No battle sworn into, not fated through the sea, nor deprived of who she really is…
Across an aquamarine pool
star fairies sparkle and glisten,
a scene of brillance, splediferously true,
found now shimmering upon my fair skin.
Secluded moments live here, too
dancing and guiding are the wisps
throughout the day, into twilight’s hues,
freckles, counted, by way of sun’s kiss, claim me.
Apollo offers to illuminate the view,
his hands sculpting radiance; bronze tones,
as summer temperatures offer proof,
his abilities masterful and, yes, epic.
Cicada’s persistence found romantic,
while evening shades finally filter through,
smell of honeysuckle murmurs to the wind,
hinting to how life could be once alone with you.
He slowly wakes her,
quiet, and the only one
as love’s color lays upon velvet petals, he hums.
His hands feel her beautiful,
remarkable, softly serene. His murmur, awakening her scent at dawn, leads her blossoming.
Helios, Titan god of her sun, stretches and whispers she is exquisite, mine and for now, done.
Carry me, across cerulean
Allow me to dip,
My hazel eyes
Make me your Aurora
I’ll paint a divine sky
And bring you your dawning
as dusk departs and night arrives,
i’m caught up in a mythological moment,
aphrodite falls for apollo, right before my eyes.
indescribable, I know I’d only blow it,
so I sit back with a defeated laugh.
left wondering, where might I find myself a poet,
who could write of a sunset like that?
Auroral perspective arouses
Intimate moments such as this
Fated, possible second chances
Eos and Helios, Titian bliss
Allow the glow’s collision
To rest upon our skin
One day he’ll return with shadows
Another tenebrous path travelled
Carrying what he witnessed, as proof.
Upon his stoic face and disheveled hair
He offers, insight to pain that lingers
She’ll guide, with an air of tranquility
And with the touch of her warm hand
So he may return to his appendages
Left in her care, a guard on sacred land
His weakened back holds exhaustion
A celestial stretch moving his limbs,
Proof of his immortal strength, passion
He rests shoulders upon steal pinions.
Feathers quaver, show fine onyx wings
His flesh returns, breathing tempers
Eyes open, now the colors of heaven
While his spirit continues to reenter
No different from journeys past
Of which there are, and will always be
Travel logs full of omnipotent distance
For he protects us all, yes, willingly
The tempo of their embrace will matter
Most of all. Echos of the time they lose
Forgotten. As the hum of his battle cry
Quiets. And their love begins to soothe
He made her laugh,
Helped her relax,
On shelled sand.
Then one day gone,
Salty air teased,
No longer his pond.
Not too far,
Just this cove,
No sign of his heart,
So the story’s told.
She slowly sank,
Trying a stiff pointed tail,
To no avail.
Not at all planned,
She missed him so,
In the end, confusion,
Azure ocean aglow.
Dirty little open secret,
Upon her fin,
Tides in question.
Left to swim with fishes,
What’s left of,
His Crimson Mer,
Leaves me speechless.
Educated on his surroundings,
Masculinity unfolds daily,
Not even in dreams.
Why find comfort in her?
Yet, she welcomes him, completely.
Grasping at the simplicity,
Of a dreamer’s thoughts.
Freely giving of his heart.
Needing more than anything,
To feel the curve of her body.
She welcomes his presence,
Intensity of his desire,
To stay with her, if only for a while.
A sanctuary of his making,
Her devoted heart beating,
To the enormity of his craving.
Pain found upon his face,
She wrapped in his embrace,
A calming force surrounds.
Neither leave or waver,
Unaware of time or space,
For him she waits.
Knowing moments together pass,
Worldly duties, a requirement of fate,
Submitting, aware she’s all he has.
Fleeting bits of peace eagerly evade,
Tears washing sorrowful passions,
As returning again, always questioned.
With pleading eyes,
Yes, viciously so,
I begin explaining,
Why pieces of you,
Must be touched,