Surrenders

The darkness once again surrenders to the day

The silky glow of the moon softly retreating

Gently bowing towards the nebulous horizon

While distant stars, one by one, wink, and then disappear

 

Shadowy spaces endowed with the orange glow of daybreak

In anticipation of the gilded light spilling across the land

Each moment a unique masterpiece of magnificence

Often captured, but never perfectly recreated

 

Inside, the abrupt chiming of the modern day rooster

Hands fumbling in a half-awake, half-asleep state of being

Surrenders dreamtime and precious moments quickly extinguished

Expectations and the day ahead filling hearts and minds

 

Alas, in a heartbeat and a single perspective change

Motivation relegated to pause, for an extended moment

As eyes are captivated by the sight of a slumbering goddess

Body mesmerized by the soft rise and fall of beauty, sleeping

 

Sight tracing the loosely draped mound of flannel sheets

Partially relinquished as unnecessary in the warm night air

Now haphazardly intertwined between long silky legs

Supple alabaster flesh peeking from between the spaces

 

Endless waves of luxurious hair floating across neck and shoulders

Each strand with an ethereal life of its own making

Undulating and reflecting the first rays of the morning sun

Bathing her languishing figure with an exotic lambency

 

Each feminine curve gives additional pause, and admiration

The gentle bend of her knees as they rise to her thighs

Rounded shoulders; the tip of an earlobe; her rosy cheek

That amazing curve from her waist down across her hips

 

My longing is consumptive; my hunger growing from within

Her presence ignites weightlessness and the feeling of being able to fly

And how my hand does tremble in a mind-cloud of eroticism

Exquisitely delicious thoughts that are beyond comparison

 

And yet, my trembling hand and my pounding heart shall hold fast

Eyes capturing this moment and proceeding without action

For my sleeping beauty shall not be stirred from her slumber

My thoughts reserved for another moment; another encounter

 

Additional Work From This Author

The Lover’s Thread, Poetry of Love and Romance

The Gypsy Thread

 

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R J Schwartz

I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all. I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed. I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another. I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me. I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.

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