Each night I sing to you
the song of my heart
memories of
meandering down a hidden
well-trodden path
in the distant, foreign
moon-kissed land I found you
tasting the simmering
night air
your magic and beams
gracing every fragrant
wave and dune
you captured my heart
shining from afar
🌕🪔🪷🛕🪷🪔🌕
nights spent
luxuriating in black lava sand
still radiating the warmth of
the daytime sun
a harsh light dimmed
by your sparkling light
my silent scarlet moon
🌕🪔🪷🛕🪷🪔🌕
I dream every night
in the light of your love
of vagrant petals entangled
fingers run through
scented dream-swept hair
the ethereal tune of our tropical trysts
still piques my drifting attention
on a dewy, vibrant breeze
notes I know my longing begs to hear
again and again
🌕🪔🪷🛕🪷🪔🌕
my tightly wound body
knotted and tense
relaxes as I slumber
even in my dreams
I start to stretch and dip
in a familiar swaying fan
as unseen figures
vocalize the portrait
inscribed on my heart
in ink made of moon-burnt embers
mixed with water from the
fountains of the far-flung
corners of the Earth
🌕🪔🪷🛕🪷🪔🌕
words form on
involuntarily twitching lips
in a twinkling infusion of
stardust and music
I inaudibly sing along
swinging and kicking
every night I return to you
my love, my light, my temple red moon
K.B. Silver
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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More stories from K.B. Silver and writers in Poets and other communities.
CH 5~Surviving Lunch
Half expecting to wake back in the country in her own bed, Francine cringed at the noise coming from across the Garden. Things were as they had been the night before. Only brighter and louder, if that was to be believed. Gramma Arsenault could repel an invading force with her shrill voice. It was as if Gerdie was right where she’d left her, though when they went upstairs, it looked like she had been unpacking all morning.
By K.B. Silver Exclusive • 3 months ago
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Oooo, black lava sand was so aesthetically pleasing. Loved your poem!