Free Verse # 229 (river of white silence)

The autumn breezes
in her hair played,
and spring, in her skin,
was the moon
glowing through the clouds.


I wrote her
the moonbeams
into a song
then curled it
into her hair;
the ocean waves
into a poem
I weaved
then rubbed her
to the core.


River of white silence
flowing from her womb,
in your water I feel
my heart become full.


She gave him herself
wrapped in the silk of a white flower;
to touch her heart
he had to become a butterfly,
with infinite gentleness unlock
the sea of her soul.


Like a moth she fluttered before giving away, vanishing in the flame burning in his heart.


She, laid out in his hands
as a burning banquet
and he aspiring to be
the madness in her eyes.


Mon cœur dans une goutte de rosée tombée de ses yeux clairs


Ciel à âme nue, le brun de ses yeux.


Like a spider
alone I weave my web,
a poem in the moonlight.


Your silence the pillow where I rest my heart.


On the blue shore of silence
her poem was a wave
frothing along my skin
the stillness of her eyes


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