Thursday, January 13, 2011

Resuscitate

20.11.2010

How beautiful the sound of silence,

when love pervades the air...

Savouring perfume and colognes, musky

for one so lucky.


There's no need for small talk

No room for chitter chatter

Only the language of two souls


Discovering layers beneath layers

Revealing hidden secrets, places  -

places the eyes dreamed to explore

21.12.2010

Under covers, cotton sheets and woven thread...

Hint of treasures... a wild imagination fantasizes.

A fantasy so real to touch...

A pleasure so potent.


The innocent but not so innocent thoughts

Unravel and unwrap the present within

and at the first glimpse of a wish come true,

a shimmer of surprise, a twitch of a smile...


Beckons the child within...

Curves, bumps, hands and toes

Dreams surreal

Smooth, soft, warm, hot


Feeling, feeling,

... thoughts cease to think and 

Love's got a whole new meaning

body temperature's rising.

Clear


Written by: Rachael N. Collymore

© 2010


MyFreeCopyright.com Registered & Protected

Splice

We take for granted the little things,

The moments that steal our breaths...

We take the beauty out of beautiful,

When we fail to see what was beautiful...

If we trim the hedges, dig out the weeds and clutter, maybe.

Maybe, we'd begin to see what was hidden

Maybe we'd stop and stare and wonder and care.

Like gasping for air, we'd be shocked into consciousness

Awakened to the manifestation of sight.

But sometimes it is the little things, seemingly insignificant things that escape us,

only to be discovered or recovered later on, if the fates allow...

We've missed so much because our backs were turned.

We've missed so much because we were not free

We've missed so much because we chose not to see -

Love in our midst, in our grasps, in front of us - dancing...

Trying to get our attention.


We take for granted the little things that mean the world...

The moments of life that capture you - memories of a lifetime.

Maybe our hearts were hardened by what our eyes saw...

Clouding the sacred, purity of a solitary moment.

Life can do that sometimes.

We forget to love...

We forget how to love and be loved.

We hold our breaths and neglect to exhale...

Turning a blind eye is easy.

Hating is easy, but loving...

Loving is hard.

Loving is hard.


Written by: Rachael N. Collymore
© 2010MyFreeCopyright.com Registered & Protected