Stormbird
She dwells in his embrace
like a dove returned home.
His hands fold like wings
against her back and raise her up.
In his kiss she feels the wild
flutter of sky, in his gaze
the quickening of lightning.
He is the nest
and the edge of the storm,
she's poised like a feather
on the rim.
like a dove returned home.
His hands fold like wings
against her back and raise her up.
In his kiss she feels the wild
flutter of sky, in his gaze
the quickening of lightning.
He is the nest
and the edge of the storm,
she's poised like a feather
on the rim.
posted by burning moon at 12:42 AM
4 Comments:
pretty... i realy like this poem... i am going to go take a walk now see ya..
thanks kora. enjoy your walk
Wow *soft whistles*, this is excellent Moon,love it.
He is the nest,
and the edge of the storm.
fantastic
ta very much Chris *grin*
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