Tag Archives: a sweet moment


This was a secret world, among the thick green and tall grass, a lush little grotto by the clear, silver creek. The sounds of the highway and the shouts and noise of the people in the town did not come here. It was a shard of Eden.
Gabriella was leading me by the hand. That hand was small and warm, and felt so light and strong in my own. We did not talk, as this was sacred.
The branches and leaves of the trees hid even the twilight sky, though honeyed gold lit us in robes of flames. She pulled her hand away and faced me. She smiled, then placed her hands on my shoulders, signaling me to kneel in the dirt.
I did.
Her smile grew brighter, and she did the same.
Her fingers brushed my cheek, and she looked me in the eye, locking me in her light, which was grey like starlight, and as ancient. Her eyes were the color of the water that was the only sound, deep and resonate and without blemish.
She kissed me, softly, tenderly. Her fingers curled into my hair.
A light began to emminate from inside her chest, crimson and pulsating and rich, the color of blood and life and birth. She put her fingers into that light, and pulled her chest open.
The ball of crimson light came out in her hands. Our sacred place was like an unshed womb, dark with nuturing flesh.
On her face was a shy and intimate smile, the light in her hand she was handing to me, to my hands that waited and trembled, in this most intimate moment, our most delicate bonding.
She was handing me her soul.
I held it, and it was heat that did not burn, a dream that did not wake, a wound that was cut and healed at birth.
I felt the light of her, the essence that had drawn me to her, helpless against her wonder, was in my hands.
We were one, this angel and me.
And I felt all the sweetness of my life return, untarnished by loss and the fall from grace, I felt the times the light of heaven had poured through me like the river crashing in white capped power down the mountain, washing away all else in it’s past.
If I had been unworth, we both would have burned away.
And in that fleeting eternity, that sweetness of her glory, she knew all there was in me, and all I could be, that I would be, for her, for us.
And I returned her soul to her , and slipped back into her silk and soft flesh that closed around it, and sealed in the light.
She looked like a young woman again, hiding her power and beauty.
Again, she reached out and touched my face, stroking my cheek.
Again, she gave me a soft, tender kiss.
The tears wracked me then, unable to absorb all that had happened, that we had shared.
She drew me in her arms and kissed my head, sang me a song from some happy land.
I cried, then slept in her arms.

Eye Of The Storm

A soft, piano song on my MP3 player, as the sun falls.
I am warm and content in my own bed, edging to sleep.
For a moment, it’s all good and well, and it’s all sweet.
I dream of an angel, and a mermaid combing her hair
and a girl I kissed long ago, under a blue, brewing sky.
I dream of good things. I find a piece, still shining inside.
I drift to sleep, to quiet thoughts, and a tenderness of heart.

Monsoon Season

The rain pours in torrents outside our window.
The stars are gone, and moon no longer can glow.
Warm in each other’s arms, we have a piece of time.
But time will always run out, always the clock will chime.
Your soft skin radiates against mine in the darkness,
and I see life, it’s sweetness and grit, in blue starkness.
We found ourselves, far from home, far from paradise,
for a time safe and warm, and whole, but it was a toss of dice
that even this moment, in the monsoon season, would come.
Facing your kindness and tenderness and I am struck dumb.
Somewhere outside the window, heaven is burning,
and somewhere else a lost child to their home is returning.
Somewhere there are people happy and free who know not
the sorrows we’ve had, and to whom innocence is not forgot.
I kiss your head, pull you close, inhale the salt of your skin.
Love intertwined with lust, desire made holy, a precious sin.