Serenity’s Storm

“I think that the ideal space must contain elements of magic, serenity, sorcery and mystery.”

 – Luis Barragan

Wash away, all the same

Breezes blow, I will trade

Tranquil bows, some not all

Pass me through, I’ll not call

Feelings so smooth

 

Like rocks worn, by the waters rush.

Feelings quelled, by the hush

Cascades of warmth, not ambient

Inside it burns, not transient

Easy comes the calm

 

Many searching, souls exist,

In this world, of gentle mist

A serenity that, cannot be trained.

Never before, traveling this lane

I’m now savoring

Tempest you will, draw my attention

Pleased I fall back, there’s no tension

I turn again, to the lonely sound

Never having, to leave the ground

Lost in the moment

01162011

Tempest you draw my attention

Pleased I fall back again

I turn to the sound

Never having left the ground

Lost in the moment

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2011/01/serenitys-storm.html#sthash.zcpyzVfB.dpuf

Tempest you draw my attention

Pleased I fall back again

I turn to the sound

Never having left the ground

Lost in the moment

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2011/01/serenitys-storm.html#sthash.zcpyzVfB.dpuf

Tempest you draw my attention

Pleased I fall back again

I turn to the sound

Never having left the ground

Lost in the moment

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2011/01/serenitys-storm.html#sthash.zcpyzVfB.dpuf

Tempest you draw my attention

Pleased I fall back again

I turn to the sound

Never having left the ground

Lost in the moment

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2011/01/serenitys-storm.html#sthash.zcpyzVfB.dpuf

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Ode to My Flame – An exposition of my muse

“O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest 
heaven of invention.“ –  William Shakespeare

“In the early part of my life I carried the flame for fiery women: 
perky women who were not dumb.”– Debra Winger

 

To the casual eye, a fire is a fire. There is much more to the flame, than what is taken for granted. My flame lives, breathing a jealous breath. It reaches out for more in hungry, at times violent, lustful hunts. My flame can be patient, lying dormant in embers of anticipation. It’s tongues lap gently at the air, crackles of passion beginning, growing with intensity, the climax a promise if given more; the afterglow a certainty, soft colors showing the lovers dance of death. Creating as it rolls and frolics, anything exposed to its playful antics will be changed. Sweet gentle animal, raging storm, my flame inspires awe and reverence. From ages beyond and before, men will court you. I use you sweet flame, and likewise you use me. Perpetuating my affair, I sit for hours watching you dance. A lustful patron, I eagerly throw you my supply to see you sway. Though my offering is consumable, without a care you eagerly consume my soul. You‘re always faithful to perform, licking seductively, swaying, teasing. Spreading your heat, I feel your glow against me as I come close. My inspiring muse to create all, you bring romance to my cold nights and warm ambiance to chilled emotion. My flame, let me hold you, spinning around with joy, shedding your tears of laughter, sparks that disappear within seconds. Without you, I perish for want of nurture. You are my sustenance for long days; my lover flame, satiate me with your enduring comfort; you are my fire, you are my flame, you are my woman.

Ode to My Flame – An exposition of my muse

“O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest 
heaven of invention.“ –  William Shakespeare

“In the early part of my life I carried the flame for fiery women: 
perky women who were not dumb.”– Debra Winger

 

To the casual eye, a fire is a fire. There is much more to the flame, than what is taken for granted. My flame lives, breathing a jealous breath. It reaches out for more in hungry, at times violent, lustful hunts. My flame can be patient, lying dormant in embers of anticipation. It’s tongues lap gently at the air, crackles of passion beginning, growing with intensity, the climax a promise if given more; the afterglow a certainty, soft colors showing the lovers dance of death. Creating as it rolls and frolics, anything exposed to its playful antics will be changed. Sweet gentle animal, raging storm, my flame inspires awe and reverence. From ages beyond and before, men will court you. I use you sweet flame, and likewise you use me. Perpetuating my affair, I sit for hours watching you dance. A lustful patron, I eagerly throw you my supply to see you sway. Though my offering is consumable, without a care you eagerly consume my soul. You‘re always faithful to perform, licking seductively, swaying, teasing. Spreading your heat, I feel your glow against me as I come close. My inspiring muse to create all, you bring romance to my cold nights and warm ambiance to chilled emotion. My flame, let me hold you, spinning around with joy, shedding your tears of laughter, sparks that disappear within seconds. Without you, I perish for want of nurture. You are my sustenance for long days; my lover flame, satiate me with your enduring comfort; you are my fire, you are my flame, you are my woman.