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A Story Of Old
Shooting stars
faintest whisper,
little flowers -
slightest flicker
of burning embers;
Watch the flame
speak it's mind.
Little flowers
turning weary heads,
listen to the story;
Laying in dew beds.
A story -
the embers told,
of fire breathing dragons -
and princess tales of old.
Shooting stars
fall softly
to hear
the faintest whisper.
And delighted -
and excited,
every time a prince
gets rescued
by the damsel-in-distress.
See the prince's
sheepish grin
visions echoed
in the embers.
Smoky Vision
Listen now,
hear this song
beauty flowing
all along
Can you feel it,
The musics hum;
Powerful shivers
as the guitar strums.
Smoky vision
flow through sight.
Musical beauty
through the night.
The smell of embers;
Breathe the fire,
moving towards
your hearts desire.
The body of music;
Sugar in your heart,
can you embody it?
Taste an ancient art.
 Allison Grey · Fri Feb 09, 2007 @ 09:01pm · 0 Comments |
