She serenades me with the words of love..
She serenades me with the words of love
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
She serenades me with the sweet words of love
Sometime we shroud ourselves in things we shouldn’t have, torrent love flames will become weaker and you must have something else to hold on to. Sweet love, torturing love, allow me to fall into the bosom of paradise, swim into warm and deep rivers of secret places. I remember her, wearing garments of thin clothing of soft silk and holding me tightly into the midnight hours.
I wanted to keep the love alive, fasting till we found the places where real lovers go.
She embraced me, the heat of her soft skin bringing me into great desire and great madness. She kissed me hard and long, making me weak and to want more.
She whispered softly. “Lovers love, poet write and dreamers dream. We need to reach for the highest mountain, be bold and fearless in the want and need of love. Life and love is simple. We must blaze into passion allowing the flame to explode like a volcano without no ending.”
I asked her. ” Broken promises are like broken glass, impossible to repair. Should we surrender to false love to satisfy the body, not the heart? Are we using up the innocent of the first touch. Just create peace for the loin area and trying to feel everything in seconds, minute and hours instead of slowing down.”
She gave me a sweet smile and whispered. ” Today we are alive. What does more or less mean when the opportunity for us to truly dance in passion? Today I would follow you anywhere, I would give you anything you desire, I want us to become one, I need you now. Tomorrow is no guarantee my love. Please allow me to become your place to be free and wild.”
Leonard Cohen is singing in the background. “Suzanne”. I watched my blue eyes beauty release her silk night-dress. I watched her dance barefoot to the song, her long blond hair swaying and moving with the music. I watched her laugh and sing with Leonard Cohen. I took her hand and brought her closer. She went to her knees and laid her head into my chest. I told her. “My muse, my sweet love, your serene of sweet words are true.
Time is hard to control, today we must reach down and drain the body and the soul. We will touch paradise rarely. It is better that we tried to love than wished we did.”
Two fond lovers hidden by the darkness of the night, open doors that can’t be closed again. First love, last love. It is better to swim in passion than to die in the loneliness of things lost and can’t be found.