Dream of Eve

Day 16 of my review of the last twelve months and a poem about summer nights ( with no mention of Travolta or Grease)

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Ophelia via photopin (license) photo credit: Ophelia via photopin(license)

Moonlight sparkles on the water
As I drift lazily by, within this dream.
The languor of a summer night
Encapsulates the instant
The goddess whispers my name.
Her voice so beautiful, ethereal,
It’s like the sighing of the breeze.
 

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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The Weaver

photo credit: The Web via photopin (license)

photo credit: The Web via photopin (license)

And The Weaver starts spinning
She’s got you in a daze
Trapped you from the first moment
That her hips begin to sway.

Her motion beckoning you nearer
You’re longing for her touch.
It’s like your breathing is failing
And falling is not enough.
 

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Misbehaving

photo credit: Leda via photopin (license)

photo credit: Leda via photopin (license)

I was forced today, very much against my will, to go for a coffee. The rain was beating down, seriously threatening to move me beyond the status of drowned rat to something far more wretched. And while I wasn’t sure caffeine was the answer I felt there was no harm in at least exploring that hypothesis.

I had work to do, the most urgent thing being meeting a deadline which had less than twenty-four hours to run but even though I had everything I needed with me to do some profitable work, my mind wanted to misbehave. So there I sat in a riverside location watching ducks go waddling past and people rushing by trying to avoid raindrops. While overhead the sky became increasingly ominous.

So I sat there and I wrote three poems, which seem to be linked or at least sit together with a degree of comfort. Not that they are about anything apart from daydreaming and misbehaving.

PS. And I’ve met that deadline too, so not a bad day all in all.

Grey Lady

photo credit: IMG_1158 via photopin (license)

photo credit: IMG_1158 via photopin (license)

No matter how much you disguise
Or hide the beauty inside
You never fail to shine.
In a world of billions of shadows
I’m praying Grey Lady
That one day
You shine your light on me.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Somewhere

photo credit: Eyes Color via photopin (license)

photo credit: Eyes Color via photopin (license)

You move in silence
Like an angel.
A halo of gold framing your face
Like a coronet marking that you are
Not of mortal kind.
An elfin beauty, ghost of a smile
Curving your mouth
And setting stars aflame
Somewhere in the unfathomable depths
Of those blue, blue eyes.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Linger

 

photo credit: Autumn lips via photopin (license)

photo credit: Autumn lips via photopin (license)

You are something and nothing
The beginning
The moment it all ends
That headlong rush in the dark
The luxuriant feel of summer rain upon my skin
The fear
The pleasure and the pain
The ecstasy
The moment
Your lips first linger on mine

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Dream of Eve

photo credit: Ophelia via photopin (license)

photo credit: Ophelia via photopin (license)

Moonlight sparkles on the water
As I drift lazily by, within this dream.
The languor of a summer night
Encapsulates the instant
The goddess whispers my name.
Her voice so beautiful, ethereal,
It’s like the sighing of the breeze.
 

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Celestial

Day 23

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Small point of view via photopin (license) photo credit: Small point of view via photopin(license)

She’s only a woman, just flesh and blood.
Not the sun and the moon or the stars above.
So how can a woman ignite my soul
And have the magic that remakes me whole?

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Rings

The hooped rings of the pattern on your dress
Encircle your body, hold you close,
As I dream at night my arms will do, one day.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Celestial

She’s only a woman, just flesh and blood.
Not the sun and the moon or the stars above.
So how can a woman ignite my soul
And have the magic that remakes me whole?

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.