Showing posts with label kiss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kiss. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Power Of Love

A bit of nostalgia
floats through the air
a chill from the west side of Long Island
it blows across the Sound
in a whisper
a tiny voice
fingers to lips, hush
steel guitar serenading
is like a gentle touch
to a tattered heart
a mellow reminder
that fairy tales never fade
and time makes room
for the next chapter
of a very long story
sand and shells
music and memories
your kiss - a soothing testament
to the powers of love… 


© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Friday, May 22, 2015

Sway Of The Dance

Red wine sipped through lips
painted shades of frost and crimson
...dark eyes look away -  a seductive glance
meant only for you and
when the night tumbles around us
while stars shoot across the sky
there will be a time when your hands embrace the moment
and hold its place with mine…

That first kiss speaks volumes
a prelude to what could be
…if we want it badly enough
please don't take for granted
that my affection will remain open to you
I could hold out for a lifetime to get it right
what we dream, what we have lost
keep the heart beating…

Dare I caress the sway of the dance - again? 


© 2015 TrilbyYates

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Dancing Dreams

Walk softly past my window
Early morning light stretches
Across a dimly lit sky
With gentle hands
Reaching for a heart
That yawns
While the mind
Holds onto dreams
In shimmering shades
Of lavender and blue
Pleading, “…don’t wake me, not yet, not yet…”
Tender kisses like feathers fall
From the lips of lovers
Drift upon a delicate backdrop
Of rainbows and the sweet scent of freshly picked flowers
Dancing like Fred and Ginger
Two as one synchronized
In a life filled with promises
Of forever and always… 


© 2015 TrilbyYates

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

I Long For You

The moon hangs low 
wrapping the night 
in a magical blanket 
of Florence city lights 
Off in the distance 
late night cathedral 
bells ring 
Roof top view 
overlooking 
the Arno River 
Lights glisten 
on the Ponte Vecchio 
Lovers walk holding hands;
a kiss and a photo op 
A lifetime of memories made  -
Locks of love 
tell their own story
Slowly sipping a glass 
of local Merlot
I wonder how many 
of those stories 
have stood 
the test of time 
A toast to you 
and yours 
and all that have come 
and gone before and after
 - Eyes wide with amazement 
I can't help but wonder...
What it would feel like, 
what would it be like 
to share such moments 
To point to the stars 
and make a connected wish
To share our favorite vino 
Chat about the days experience;
give and take
your perspective 
and mine intertwine 
What would I think 
if you held my face 
in your hands 
and kissed my mouth 
Whispering I love you bella 
Taking my breath away 
Stopping time,
earth moves;
all the cliches 
all the romantic poetic verse 
tossed together 
impacting my heart 
like a hurricane
- Roof top view 
overlooking 
the Arno River 
Lights glisten 
on the Ponte Vecchio
a rush of wind 
my emotions
are as clear
as the view
stars shine bright
above the city of Florence
and my heart knows
... I long for you 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Move Through You

I would love 
to move through you 
To see what you see 
To switch it up 
without the knowledge 
or fallout 
Have the ability 
to fall madly in love 
with you 
...with the simplicity 
to detach 
from that love 
with ease 
To hold on 
so tightly 
with a feeling of 
"I've just seen God..." 
To letting go 
with a sense of 
"...to close for comfort!" 
Take a deep breath 
sigh of relieve 
Freedom blustering high 
No strings 
No albatross dangling 
like a piece of cheap jewelry 
hanging around my neck - 
I would love 
to move through you 
To see what you see 
To switch it up 
without the knowledge
or fallout 
Have the ability 
to fall madly in love with you
fall madly in love with you...

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Music Time

I fell in love with a boy
who held music in his hands
like a fragile thought
that could easily slip away
it filled his heart
like there was never
enough time
for all the notes to play
making his chest ache
the way mine did
every time he kissed
my finger tips
we would make love
on the music room floor
while searching for inspiration
knowing it was only
moments away
nothing seemed beyond our reach
so we would wait
and watch the sunrise
slowly coming up and over the city streets
there is such beauty in the breaking of dawn
hitting high notes within the perfection
of a continuous and endless line
listening closely until we couldn't - dance any more
...remember my name - he'd say
I would look deep into his eyes
while strumming my guitar
never missing a note
his face etched in the most cherished
place in my mind and we both knew
I was his and he was mine
we would be forever - connected in music time

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Mojo Kicking In

Slipping off pseudo
Dr. Freud's leather couch
$250 an hour
to soothe
my fevered brow
- ease a weary
torn soul
from thoughts
and memories
demons haunting past
that push the limits
crowding the 3rd eye
- blind
to a convoluted
way of life...
nothing travels
in a straight line
moving again 
and again
as the moon
swings around
the the earth
such a grandiose plan
- embroidered pillow sham
cushions my fall
landing on my knees
- a view you always preferred
looking down
from high above
the 69th floor
ivory towers crumble
...ashes to ashes
like silk intimates
dusting over
my body's curves
temperature rises
a tiny drop of sweat
slowly descends
a path downward
between
my breasts
You reach out...
slight of hand
smoke and mirrors
you are a master
 - of innocence
in its highest art form
hot red lights disguise
dark smooth skin
while guitar mesmerizes
with a 13 bar riff
sweet seductive harp
blowing upstage
rhythm and blues
pulsates a steady beat
that keeps time
an infamous bump and grind
wrapping itself around my body
like a sweltering sexy summer breeze
deep sigh - comfort zone
we begin to fly
another song and a shot of VO
there is no time lost
when your Mojo is kicking in
questions lingering from the past
sassy blues - idiosyncrasies
and contradictions
good times falling on bad
judgment days and cross roads
someones woman is waiting
in the the wind, you slip out
the back door - Johnny
Man...living blues
...it's all about living the blues

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Kisses In The Dark

Glass slipper shatters 
As you walk on water
Like the second coming 
Of someone of substance
Someone we have 
All been longing for
Only you care about the timing 
Of this desperate game
Life and all its little 
...inconsequential - s
Universal plan falls 
Neatly into place 
Like domino's standing 
In a carefully placed row
One behind the other 
If one hand trembles
Tin soldiers tumble and 
Suicide bombers explode 
At the sound 
Of bells ringing 
In a far, far away land
But, I have forgotten 
The truth
And color of your eyes
And you 
You can't recall my name
So with a bitter sweet farewell 
- 21 gun salute and flags flown 
At a mournful half staff
I bid to you and yours 
Whom ever they may be
A happy and prosperous new year
Words of warning as you turn 
Strut and stagger away 
One glass too many
One glass is never enough
Like kisses in the dark 
That slowly lead to paradise
Head tipped to the left 
Sympathetically diving off the curve
Last words slur and drip 
From your oh so seductive lips
"...don't accept Canadian coin 
from strangers and never cross Jack..."
The one eyed man observes more 
Than just you and me
His days are numbered with good intentions 
- one to ten and counting
And always, always remember 
To pause and reflect while twisting 
Your personally monogrammed 
Sterling silver knife
That one last meaningful

t...u...r...n...

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Temptation

Yes, I let you hold my hand
and I held yours...
- acknowledging a perfect fit
Yes, I let you look into my eyes
I curiously looked into yours...
- I didn't blink or turn away
letting you past the walls of protection
Yes, I let you pull me close to you;
wrap your arms around me 
and kiss me passionately
Yes, I reciprocated without hesitation
Yes, a warm wind blew 
time stood still
- and yes my heart raced 
Yes, I was intrigued, flattered 
and slightly bewildered 
Yes, all your words rang true
- and yes I am attracted to you 
Yes, I have thought about you since 
Yes, I have dreamed about you
the moment you leaned in 
and took my breath away
...welcoming you with delight
Yes, I have wondered 
what it would have been like...
if we had spent the night together
...if only, if only
Yes, I smile at the thought 
of our stolen moment
Yes, it seemed you found 
what I thought I had lost
- and genuinely returned it
Yes, we connected
Yes, I have no regrets

You might ask me why - my simple reply
"I let you into my head but not my heart darlin..."
And yes I would do it again...

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Dazzling My Senses

All the human elements 
lined up with perfection
- the tangible and the abstract...
The underlying passions and dreams;
the insecurities and vulnerabilities - risk factors 
We all have our fantasies
tucked away quietly at times,
joyful exhilaration at others - how risqué
- slightest blush at the thought
I tumbled willfully without intention
into a gentle comforting place
as if magically conjured up 
by some unknown source;
Moirai song of fate 
pleasantly lulling away 
any sense of fear - or logic
Surprised how perfectly 
your hand fit into mine;
sand and sea - intoxicating...
A sense of knowing reassured
an unwillingness to turn away
Admitting that sometimes
I fall down the rabbit hole - with eyes wide
Alice In Wonderland's flawed belief
questioning all that is good 
and all that is grand,
all that is outstanding 
and unique - simply sublime
Smiling at the familiarity 
acknowledged by the look in your eyes
My life has become a free fall 
 - with no expectations
Allowing me to keep clear 
of becoming judgmentally minded
So while thunder storms 
and high humidity swirled around us 
dazzling my senses...
 - you leaned in and kissed me once more ~

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Friday, August 29, 2014

Walk The Streets Of Tribeca

I walk the streets 
where you used to live, 
the city you thrived in
The city you fell in love with, 
the city that set you free;
while at the same time crippling you - 
taking away any sense of coherency
But, you, you were alright, 
you were a shining star
you were on fire, 
the pretty boy 
with the moody green eyes, 
the seductive faraway stare
You lived in the city 
that pulled you over the edge 
Submerging you into darkness,
driving you to cut deeper 
until your art bled 
into oblivion 
Your creative energy dripped 
like an intravenous 
main lining junkie;
scores strewn across the floor 
Your best work,
your brilliance blinds 
The toll -
twenty years 
of your precious life, 
twenty years 
of a collective genius 
I walk the streets 
where you used to live, 
the city you played in, 
wishing I had known you then -
The clubs that filled 
with locals 
1970-something 
vagabonds 
creative types;
the abstract overly talented 
movers and shakers -
to the point of their own absurdity,
just to catch a glimpse 
of your vibrancy -
bringing out the lacking 
in their own luster 
You were 
one of a kind, 
a rare find 
Unique in a time 
of originality 
An artist to your core,
and yet between all the lines 
praise, paranoia and deception 
the purity of your soul 
was lost on most 
and stolen from you 
before you understood 
what it meant to have a life;
only to let life have you - 
Twenty years you said, 
twenty years and it had to end
There was joy in your eyes 
as they took you away,
a sense of peace 
We didn't realize 
our last kiss 
was an unknown 
...farewell 
Finally, twenty years lost
and finally you had it all
And in that finality,
in a moment,
in an instant,
you were gone...
I walk the streets 
in the city you loved
I walk the streets of Tribeca,
imagine running into you  -
Our eyes would meet,
on some magical level
there is a glimmer of recognition
You would smile only slightly
then turn away 
I'd write my name
on a piece of paper 
and slip it into your pocket
as you brush past  -
looking back
knowing you will find it
and fall in love with me 
...someday

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

My Heart Doesn't Sing

On any given day 
or any given moment 
fly by night 
whimsical stargazing 
backtracking 
sense of well-being 
gently slips away 
without resistance
without pause for concern 
Getting clear 
of a suffocating fog
surround sound droning - endlessly
a long drawn out daze 
blowing smoke in the face 
of a higher power  - father, son and holy spirit
Throwing all caution 
into the wind 
the consequences 
yet to be known - blow back is a bitch
and caring is less 
than a fleeting thought 
My mind can be found 
skipping through fields 
daisy chains slipping away
finger tips filter 
sunny perceptions
wind chime vibrations 
and my heart...
it doesn't sing the way 
it once did 
And how can it be 
that I can feel you 
kissing me while I sleep 
- it's only a memory - short whispered words
a tactical sensation
a long ago 
once upon a time 
split second fleeting 
sweet vignette playing 
over and over...
over and over...shuffle replay

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Friday, July 18, 2014

Dear Bartender

Pen to paper can be intimidating - old school writing feels awkward when it has been years since the last time I actually put...pen to paper. But on this trip no laptop, no word processing devices - didn't think to bring anything along to write with...front desk, sweet faced young man - red curly hair and blue eyes accommodates all requests made by the patrons staying at the 1661 Inn; even if that means some improvising. Carefully he tares out several sheets of paper from his note book and hands me a pen apologetically - as if he thinks it isn't good enough - there is just enough of a pause and hesitation in his gesture, a dead give away; but it is perfect for what I need. My head is filling up and overflowing with words and it's time to write or I will forget - which is never a good option for me - I don't seem to do well with regret...all those pearls of wisdom, jewels of thought so perfectly strung together, lost...gone forever! Tragic I think, as I step outside into the old world of Block Island. 

It is an oceanic-transformation that I can feel in the pit of my stomach - brave soul they say, going away all by your self... 

Out and about on the island, hands of the grandfather clock tick tock - 6:00PM; I walk down Spring Street to the Hotel Manisses for a drink - standing behind the bar is a July summer sun tanned handsome man talking to all the guests as if he has known them for years. Bartender lingo pro is quick, witty and charming; he chats comfortably - earning every dollar that is being rung up quicker then a blink in a turn of the century ornate quasi cash register. He looks at me, smiles and asks - what's your pleasure beautiful lady? Clearing my throat - a vodka tonic with a twist of lime please. The bartender asks...any particular Vodka? My reply clumsy, but attempting to act as if in the know...Tito's please, if you have it? He smiles and winks; continues to chat up the other customers - they are affectionately letting him know how thrilled they are that he decided to return to the Manisses for another season -  a multitasking Svengali!

My plan for the evening is to have a drink outside on the patio where I wont appear so obviously solo on the most romantic island in New England - but, if I have learned anything in this life, plans can change as quickly as the wind...

The bartender places a coaster and my Tito and tonic with a fresh slice of lime on the bar...he asks if I would hang around for a while - the drink is on him. Again the smile - slightly blushing I agree and thank him. He waits and watches as I take a sip...looking up from my glass into his eyes - a striking sea blue color - I can see a glimmer of approval and I smile back at him - with the straw still between my lips. And I wonder, does one, drink a "Tito" and tonic with a fresh slice of lime through a straw or sip from the glass...

By the second drink we are talking with more openness, as if we have also known each other for years; about inconsequential things, silly light things - music, songs - good music and bad music - is there any future in music, film. The Yankees and the Red Socks - World Cup, America's Cup - and how to steam the best lobster in the entire world. The conversation shifts back and forth, from day to day interests cautiously to personal - what do you do, what are your dreams, married, kids, in a relationship, out of one - how long. 

Some people enter the bar dressed for dinner or more casual, just stop by for a quick drink after a long day on the beach or out sailing around the island. The walls begin to drift away and vanish. Comfort and ease replace my sense of being alone on my visit and sitting in a bar full of couples and - yes, flirting with, not just a bartender, but "the" most beloved  bartender on Block island.

The conversation flows like a fine wine - how cliche, but sometimes the best or worst cliches work for a reason...they fit like a fine pair of haute couture gloves. 

We chat and laugh. He asks what my plans are for the night - I'm going to finish my drink and walk back to the inn and write. He leans in and asks if I will wait for him to finish up and maybe we can walk together. Maybe he can buy me another drink at a local slow dancing dimly lit beach bar in the Old Harbor. And maybe afterward he can talk me into going back to his place. 

Feeling verbally uninhibited now - you just want me to sleep with you! I jokingly gasp. He laughs and with a slight nod he says -  you got me darlin, confirmation of ulterior motives, I confess. Is that really what you think? An intense serious look crosses his face, strangely I'm drawn to him because of it. There is an air of honesty and sincerity in his expression and eyes.

Not sure what to think. Maybe I'm completely delusional in thinking anything; that this person has any interest in sleeping with me - and now I'm feeling a little silly. A little - but not completely embarrassed; a bit off guard maybe and slightly vulnerable.

He can sense my discomfort and says in his best Cary Grant - it is a perfect night for a walk darling...come on beautiful think about it. 

You my new friend can make one hell of a great "Tito" and tonic with a slice of fresh lime, but can not give me what I want or need - And, not an afterthought, but I don't just sleep with every pretty face I meet when vacationing alone in paradise...he smiles again and says, how do you know I can't give you what you want or need? What do you want? Do you know what you need? A little music, a slow dance, the sounds of the ocean...candle light...we all need that don't we?

Ah yes my dear bartender, sweet lovely bartender - handsome and most likely too young for me in the real world bartender...are you sure you want to hear this? Are you sure you are ready and can handle what I will say? I've had a few, wonderfully made I might add, drinks with you and the gift of gab has not been lost on either of us. 

Straight up honest shooter, he replies - I like that. 

Ok handsome, get ready...

I want...
...someone to take my hands hold them tenderly and kiss them, 
look into my eyes and know it is enough. 
I want...
... someone to kiss my lips and take my breath away,
look into my eyes and know it is enough. 
I want... 
...someone to say all the words that will fill both our hearts and ring true, perfect tone, not hollow or off key - 
look into my eyes and know it is enough. 
I want and need ...
...a friend, a lover that can feel, see and accept all of my history, my imperfections without judgement,
look into my eyes and know that it is enough. 
I want and need...
... a friend a lover that knows in his core being that when he looks into my eyes the love between us is unconditional and reciprocated and that it is enough.

How's that for starters?

Well, he says quietly, taking my hands and holding them in his - they feel warm and soft - not weak. He looks at me closely and brings my hands to his lips...he kisses them - he closes his eyes for a moment...and then looks at me again - he whispers, where have you been all of my life beautiful? 

I know it's a cliche but it fit like a fine pair of haute couture gloves...

© 2014 TrilbyYates      



Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Twilight Internet Star Crossed Lovers

Alternative time 
burn out 
and insecurities soar 
like the wounded angel 
I once was.
Flying too close
to the sun 
a virtue in disguise  -
And there was 
a moment of ease 
and a desire 
to lean in closer 
than allowed;
to take finger tips 
to your lips 
and hush 
the secrets away.
A kiss that could 
have been 
a once in a lifetime
passion between 
strangers...
A missed opportunity?
We may never know -
But wishful thinking 
and hope continues
to smolder
so very slowly 
I close my eyes
look deeply into yours
and see all that 
I will ever need to know
...twilight internet 
star crossed lovers -

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Beach Boys


Hot steamy summer day...not a cloud in the sky; brilliant blue dome of color - a slight breeze floats by on the up beat of a song dancing through the air; off in the distance sailboats lean, lean, lean stretching canvas and rails dip in the salty sea - flashback summer sweat dripping kisses...glorious sight makes my heart race.

Beach scene high tide, scent of coconut oil is like a time chaser – burst of images black and white, Kodachrome edited memories. Families, babies, teens, college kids, Gran and Pop - fill the sandy shoreline with souvenir beach towels and beach chairs; radiant red, seafaring blue and lemon yellow umbrellas adorn the landscape making up an amazing painters pallet. Aroma therapy and visual overload - in this surrounding I am thrilled to be alive!

Strategically placing myself on the fringes – a space between me and the masses. A buffer from all the chatter and one on one contact - my comfort zone just left of everything and nothing - with one foot hanging over the edge; acting as an anchor keeping me from wandering to far out in an endless sea. A beach day to listen to music - drifting away on notes and combinations of words; all stirring emotions and pushing fantasies for later creative use – deep breath in/exhale - blow. Moments of "shear poetry".

A group of three “t’ween” boys invade my peripheral vision and my solitude. Soft images flurry past, intense energy…carrying plastic beach shovels – with definite intentions. There were no words exchanged, an innate plan was brewing and clearly understood by all participants.

As much as I tried to ignore this group of adolescent males, (they reminded me of boys from my past) it was impossible...I was captivated by the "boys club" dance - and felt privy after so many years being on the outside secretly looking in, never understanding what made them tick and now I had a clear up front view - camouflaging myself behind a pair of sunglasses instead of my naivetĂ© . 

Quickly personalities started to pop...the shy one, the leader, the funny boy - these roles seemed set in stone, not interchangeable. Each knew their character and played it uncomfortably well. Pigeon holed for a moment in time.

I sat back, shades on, ear-buds in and observed with delight!

The boys started to dig a hole in the sand, within 30 minutes it was clearly going to be a very large hole. Occasionally a group of "t' ween" girls would slowly walk past; seemingly ignoring the boys...a little flip of their hair, arms linked and giggles...boys reacting, doing boy things - they jumped in the 4' deep hole, threw sand at each other, swore and laughed and dug faster as if they were just injected with high levels of testosterone.

The girls circled around several times, swishing their feet into the sand, hips swaying overly exaggerated this way and that as they walked by. Flirtatious glances exchanged, occasional eye contact and then the uncontrollable bursts of blushing red covered cheeks were a dead give away. A vision of pure innocent seduction; beach boys from long ago...summer in the city. Motown playing and dancing on the sidewalks - sweet delicious memories.

Off in the distance songs from the concession stand began to play summer songs, the hit list...Heatwave, Under The Boardwalk, Girl From Ipanema, In The Summer Time...on and on drum beat, finger snapping melodies swept me away finally into a deep sleep...

© 2014 TrilbyYates 


Thursday, March 20, 2014

Reminisce With Fondness

If the stars had been aligned 
and the winds blew 
a gentler breeze from the east 
crossing over the Sound
arriving on lands end
and a full harvest moon 
had been on the rise 
maybe then 
we would have realized 
life is a short seductive story 
bitter sweet at times
and the best is not always 
yet to come...
Knowing all too well 
that the here and now 
hold all the glory 
of star gazing moments 
that capture the heart 
and move the soul
to pleasant tears
and to never let go...
Even with all odds
against us
swimming with the tide
sentiments unknown
on this first day of spring 
thoughts wander 
the imagination drifts 
like a message in a bottle 
floating out to sea 
our secret love poems
entwined with devotion 
cherished times of holding hands 
and kisses deep into the night...

I do reminisce with fondness ~ 

© 2014 TrilbyYates   

Monday, September 2, 2013

Wonder About You

Gentle motion 
sway 
your eyes reach 
across 
the distance and time 
remain the same
for me...
I often wonder about you
I often dream about you
never completely
sub-level mind
bend
unable to 
let go
...of
long talks
hand in hand 
slow walk 
from your car 
to mine
dock side 
harbor lights 
soften the moments
still frame 
halo glow 
surrounds 
that first kiss 
tender words 
spoken
your  fingers 
entwined
with mine
you turn
smile wide
looking back
I never truly walked 
away
time...and 
circumstance 
the depth 
of our romance
we will never know

...too often I wonder about you, dream about you

© 2013 Trilby

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Déjà vu Love Affair

You kissed me first,
I remember it well,
laughter fills the air 
you flash that Sandbar grin
memories dock side 
keep flaunting happiness 
as if it were something 
attainable 
sustainable
not fleeting 
or a mere moment 
of joy 
from the past 
your eyes meeting mine
not the first time
déjà vu
quick glance
second chance 
my first Martini
Ohio nights
airline flights
and oh yes
fancy car
baked brie
you and me
we were always on
borrowed time 
some might judge 
harshly  
but the punishment 
would never 
fit the crime 
when something 
magical happens 
between two people
there is no reason
there is no rhyme  
it just is what it is 
a Blessing in disguise 
the push of the Universe
with all its pure intention
nothing is accidental
phases of life 
the twists and turns 
the process comes 
full circle 
with love and no concerns

...when I dream of misty nights 
with sails in the wind
waves begin to swell
a smile to my lips...

...that first kiss I knew it well

© 2013 Trilby

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Newport Nights

Hands held tight 
our lives hanging 
by a thread 
Newport nights
comfort in a smile
kisses deep 
with passion 
and promise 
hopes that this 
crazy world 
could stop for us
for a moment 
just one single 
moment 
in time 
when all that we 
saw
heard
felt 
would remain true 
and timeless...
...but nothing seems 
to truly last forever 
and words 
that can't be taken back 
sting at times 
when tenderness 
from long ago 
remains
wanted and needed...
...there was 
a story 
we told 
it was sweet 
til the bitter end 
and with each day 
that passes 
and month 
that turns 
into another year 
I still think of you 
and wonder 
how could you 
forget 
how could you 
not take pause 
and reach out...

...Newport nights...


© 2013 Trilby




http://youtu.be/C0hr2HWOohM

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Dog Days Of August 2011

Photo by Ari Mygatt (youngest daughter)

Gracious words are like honeycombs to the soul…

There Is No Sound

There is no sound
like this
echo’s from place
to place
and back again
there are no moments
like this
hold tight
blow a kiss
to nowhere
carried off
far away
boat ride Galilee
to Old Harbor
with the wind
to my back
and the sun
rising in the east
there’s nothing
keeping my soul
from floating away
when night turns
to day
and black
to gray…

There is no sound like this
that echo’s from place to place
and back again


© 2011 Trilby Yates