Idyllic places and time.

Idyllic places and time..

The storyteller told the writers. We shall learn that life is Summer and Winter. Spring and Fall. We will know sweetness and we shall know sadness. We will be reborn and we shall die.

Love is the medicine to cure us. We need beautiful places, tender caress of gentle hands and someone, who will listen to our dreams and wishes.

The idyllic places can be simple. Could be dancing with the sea, sitting on a hill watching the sun rise or fall. Could be a pretty face making you feel needed and wanted.

A poem to share.

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                Dear Nicole..

I loved your face and I loved the sound of your voice.

We were water and sky, the moon and the sun.

Still I read your face,

I read your scars on your skin,

I adored the curves of body,

the movement of your legs.

You are the poet’s muse.

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Idyllic places..

Maybe just dances in sweet dreams,

lingering wishes, left behind,

a pretty face to make you know.

Love near can be so faraway.

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He looked at the writers. He told them. Pretty pictures, wishes to draw tenderly on soft and tender skin with hungry fingers. Longing and emptiness. The Poet’s wealth. The echoes of things we could not have or held, just for a second. The writer’s wealth.

                            Dancing Coyote