Post by penpal on Aug 19, 2011 1:47:23 GMT -5
I dream in
Amber moon lit skies
where most folks fears
give rise to impossible
enchantments of
romance-less nights and
secretly their
self esteem dies to
rushed sexual encounters
and over the counter
prescription bottles to
drown sorrows and
lessen the chronic ills of
loneliness
But me...
I fill voids with
panting keys
vivid descriptions of
who
she
will
be
I hold tight to
pantomimic meters
I see endless poetry and
possibilities of how she will
validate past struggles and
personify written words
only gestures needed and
she will show the marks on her chest where
scars proving that her heart was broken and
replaced by Grace
I won't need to look any where else to
see God's face but
in the twinkle of her eye
where tear stains were dried
muscles defined by
the carrying of her cross
I can be man enough at times to
follow her lead
because I myself was
once lost and
a love like hers
that met His
rescued me
So...
See
when others sleep to
escape the lack of company
I stay awake to meet her
while He guides my poetry
and through the keys
I write the plain vision
waiting for the vision to
write a description befitting me
I dream in Amber moon lit skies
where silence accompanies the lonely
But the lonely are too sick to see that
sometimes silence is
the only company we need
Amber moon lit skies
where most folks fears
give rise to impossible
enchantments of
romance-less nights and
secretly their
self esteem dies to
rushed sexual encounters
and over the counter
prescription bottles to
drown sorrows and
lessen the chronic ills of
loneliness
But me...
I fill voids with
panting keys
vivid descriptions of
who
she
will
be
I hold tight to
pantomimic meters
I see endless poetry and
possibilities of how she will
validate past struggles and
personify written words
only gestures needed and
she will show the marks on her chest where
scars proving that her heart was broken and
replaced by Grace
I won't need to look any where else to
see God's face but
in the twinkle of her eye
where tear stains were dried
muscles defined by
the carrying of her cross
I can be man enough at times to
follow her lead
because I myself was
once lost and
a love like hers
that met His
rescued me
So...
See
when others sleep to
escape the lack of company
I stay awake to meet her
while He guides my poetry
and through the keys
I write the plain vision
waiting for the vision to
write a description befitting me
I dream in Amber moon lit skies
where silence accompanies the lonely
But the lonely are too sick to see that
sometimes silence is
the only company we need
