Summertime Love, Autumn Kisses

Ruffled, cotton white, skirts dance, and I whisper soft, Dandelion like spells. Yet, still I recollect the melancholy of the violin, and the crashing of star-like tears.

 

Ruffled, cotton white, skirts dance
upon olive flesh, sun kissed thighs…
and the violin plays somberly against a back drop of stars.

I whisper soft, dandelion like, spells
within slightly flushed ears, and the wind bites…
roughly into my core.

…do you remember the day you let go my hand?

The Violin plays solemnly within the sea of drifting stars,
Yet, I still recollect the warmth of sun kissed skin…

Lips quiver, hands shake, and the soft fabric falls�"swish
your sin becomes mine, as I drink greedily your sometime sonnets,
and those honey’d words dance onward within my dreams.
Crawling all over my body they gently bite my flesh�"playfully
teasing my already dry skin�"bet I this was our first.

I imagined so the happy look in those green cat eyes,
as you saw strawberry blush coat my cheeks.
But the Violin interrupts my thoughts.
The stars collide into day, violet into orange, and I cry, and laugh.

I look about and everything has changed…sepia my world.

Why do I continuously feel warm hands on me, when Ice has gathered?

Why kiss when the luminous softness of you has vanished?
Play with me again, within the sun… Let ruffled cotton fabric dance within the breeze.

But, I cough long and hard.
The Ice, liquid and startlingly hot seers into my rib cage.
I close my eyes, and the tears come again, like silver spider webs�"
molesting my body with sharp finger nails trailing down my face�"I laugh still.

As I clutch a black ruffled skirt.
Among a sea of newly dewed autumn leaves, the sky becomes gray.
And the strings break, my body sinks…
The violin so somber ebbs into the receding gray.

Everything is dark, but the cotton skirt clutched in my hands
still smells of you.
Summer suns and spring time daffodils…
They kiss my skin as you did, as I did with dandelion whispers.
The skirt still warm, is wet, drenched in your essence.

I can’t hear you or the violin,
But I wonder as I watch you, here beyond the reach of heaven,
if you can hear me?

I’m sorry I was not the first,
and sorry that I couldn’t hold you…
when you needed me.

Reviews

[...]

Another great summer in human story. Joy in sadness love in desire of blooms.

[songstress]

thank you so much for taking the time to read my piece. I'm glad I could create a "great summer in a human story."

[Frieda P]

Your hony'd words dance on your page songstress, this is beyond lovely, love love 'dandelion like, spells'....have missed reading your profound poetry. Excellent!

[songstress]

Thank you so much for the Review Frieda. I always look forward to your reviews, and I'm really glad that this time around I could be dandelion like. Those are some nice words, and I can't help smiling at them. Thank you.

[Frieda P]

Smiles are good, been away for a while, have catching up to do, so glad I stopped by, was my pleasure for sure!

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

souls play out like concertos and seasons...whimsical and juicy...quenching and dripping but gone as you open your eyes and lick your lips.....Your poem reminded me of Heaven....grazie!

[songstress]

Thank you again for such a wonderful review. It makes me happy to see such kind words. I'm sorry if I am not particularly articulate at the moment, as my mind seems to be elsewhere. But, I thank you for your kind words.

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

no worries, I have quieted distracted moments:)