Night Moves

She stood there in the fading orange yellow light

turquoise bikini in a setting summer field

dressed in water as she watched

the young man watch her,

that certain age when a girl knows

she’s working on the moves to capture

the joy of a young mans mind and soul

as she ducks under before surfacing

to seek his eye once more.

I had been there once so very long ago,

yet not as practiced in my shy girl routine

which was ingrained and boys

were merely a passing thought out of reach.

She smiles and looks away as the yellow slips lower

and the crowd on the jetty

seemingly like camels in a desert background

stand and look the other way at the show

while a young girl turns and walks beyond the waves

to the waiting shore beyond

without a backward glance

grabbing a towel around her slender growing frame

and disappears into the night

moving without a sound

as he watches her slip between trees

vanishing beyond view

and the sun too bids adieu

to the critics who gave a glowing review

of the now ended show

and perhaps a boy now dreams this night

of a pretty blue two pieced girl with long brown hair

and curves that work the night moves

into a memory.

Nothing deeper than….

Star of fire lays in the sky
And I can’t sleep till she slips beneath into
Her shroud of darkness
for it is who I am
restless in the night of shadows
watching for her demise.
Oh she will return,
don’t get me wrong
for it is her nature to glisten
on the earth like a mirage
rippling in the city streets
testing the patience
of the weary.
There is nothing deeper than fire,
stirring the embers of a mind moving
ever moving,
searching the depths for shade,
for release,
and in the quiet of a moment she descends,
whispering words of solace
of another day passing and a new one on yet to begin,
pouring out the golden goodness as only she can,
swimming in her beauty as she warms the chill away,
for only she can slip beneath skin
and remind
that over and over again,
she will return
and there will be no rest
until she is done.
Without her is death,
within her is life
surrounded in her embrace
we are alive.

Sun whispers

I need to be in the whisper of a setting sun

as the rays fall down upon me like the dream of stars

that wait behind the curtain

readying their selves for their evening role.

I long to touch the sky as the night air cools this atmosphere

and my mind reaches into the banks of the day,

remembering moments of ups and downs,

ready for the darkness to envelop my thoughts

taking them into the bliss of a dream of tomorrow.

I wait as the silence fills the spaces,

as the birds nestle down for the night that holds

softly like a mothers hands,

and I watch as their white forms turn to nothing,

no longer visible,

only imagined in my mind from what I’d seen

waiting for the whisper to come

a gift from the setting sun.