i

i cannot explain
unless i compare it all to sound
because our holding
hands while i give you time
is a litany of volcanic hymn
while the flavor of our
just letting the river of darkness
take over our car is
a beat shaking the speakers and
laying down with you for a nap
is the glazed golden voices of a
choir that grasps your mind
yet the best is when you
open up and tell me how you
feel and think
sounds like a classical start
of a song that enlightens
like the gates of heaven opening up
and a most holy
rain of notes
arrive like kisses…

Advertisements

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s