Beauty

“Home”

Maybe you will break my heart, and maybe you won’t.
Incandescent, effulgent, you are uncertain, evanescent and fleeting.
One thing is for sure.
Your heart is kind,
Beautiful, like a cherry blossom,
Open it up, and you will be mine.
Sitting by the fire together,
Sipping wine, becoming cozy,
You make me feel the way I do
When reading a superb novel,
My heart, cleansing itself.
I hold you in my arms,
Kissing your lips
Your neck,
Your soul.
We are naive,
As only those in love can be,
And I cherish every moment.
But,
I haven’t met you yet.

“Hijo da la Luna”

The moon was big and bright that day,
The boy watched her from far away.
He made a promise to himself,
To love the moon,
His heart did swell.
As he grew into a man,
He realized he would need a plan,
And so love indeed beat out fear,
The man whispered into her ear.
On one night, oh, how it was wild,
The moon told the man she was with child.
The man grew joyous, then morose,
Started crying, uncomposed.
The moon realized then what was wrong,
And so too she then cried along.
For like the moon can’t grip a gun,
How ever would she hold her son?
The thunder brayed, the lightning cried,
To honor the day the moon’s heart died.


"To Caress A Wilted Flower"

Legends do say,
On a damp and dreary day,
To caress a wilted flower,
Is to hold true power.
To caress a wilted flower,
Is to touch death’s face,
Stroke it like a lover,
Oddly delicate,
Then, give him chase.

“The Man Who Would Be An Angel”

Love is his driving force for being,
Fights the blindness that he’s seeing.
The girl, at his side, exposed and pale,
Cancerous demons, hot on their trail.
The man fights all throughout the night,
Knowing if she’s safe, all will be right.
The man is injured, feels her touch,
A wing sprouts up, a seed from love.
The man fights on, and saves her soul,
He follows her, his heart she stole.