angelcomesabove

Come sit by me and listen to The story I shall tell, About a man who learned the skill Of whistling very well. He stood upon a mountaintop Beneath the rising sun, And gazed upon the valley fields Before the song begun. The valley fields stretched endlessly Between twin glinting seas, The mountain which he stood upon Sat high above the trees. But why’d he choose a mountaintop To whistle out his tune? The notes would make the valleys laugh And make his lady swoon. She lived in a small wooden house Amid the lilac field; Her feelings toward the whistler-man She never had revealed. She sat upon her wooden roof And glanced

you and your leafish summer hands, smooth with raised veins your long olive fingers pick up my own (my little languid pale twigs) they offer salutations and caress and keep each other warm, from day to night to dawn and then the summer ends, and leaves begin to fall, the night sparkles have been dulled by daylight, twin hearts, we must part. alone walking by the road on little languid pale legs, autumn breeze sweeping my thoughts away in remembrance of the last lost summer- me and the wind: alonely and desolate but then a leaf falls into my hands, and you are there

you are my rising dawn; the face of the sun illuminating my world. your smile luminous as the midnight moon, with speckled stars of laughter. your hands deep and rich as april rains, caressing the barren land; bringing growth and ardor. and rosebud-pink lips, twin petals which open rarely into vibrant bloom. eyes open, they are a window to worlds apart, a strange enticing language i yearn to learn. and the incessant beat of the illustrious heart, each time i hear it in a livelier tempo. some days i can't believe you are real. on days i don't hear from you, and most likely haven't heard from you in a long time- you are invisible.&#

Love me in the springtime, dear! Love me in the rain! Love me when I’m very strange. Love me when I’m sane. Love me as a foolish child. Love me when I’m old. Love me when I’m smitten, Also love me when I’m cold. Love me when I’m furious. Love me when I’m shy. Love me when I scream and shout And hide and run and cry. Love me when success is mine. Love me when I fail. Love me when I write you poems And when I send you mail. Love me on the telephone. Love me in the car, Love me when I’m next to you And also when I’m far. Love me in our arguments. Love me when we fight. Love me

i love the warm summer rains, the tickling tendrils of grass, rolling through wildflowers. i love the silent winter snows, the tickle of january winds, the laughter of nightingales. i love the indigo curtain of sky, speckled with scintillating stars and the watchful eye of the moon. i love the world, and its tempests, and its peace, because somehow i know i can turn the tempests into peace, i can have the patience to wait out the storm, i can turn the real world into my own