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Ivy Rose
http://ivyrose.purpledream.com |
Half-Moon Desire
03/10/03
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Half-Moon
of painted shadows,
silky eyes squinting
beneath soft, desire.
Hot purple tears
born of endless lashes.
You...the touchable one:
the one who can see art
in black silhouettes,
in the tender hope
of dreams unvoiced.
You...the Half-Moon
of my slit-eyed heart
declaring yourself
the beloved,
the one who has opened
my naive eyes
offering the seduction,
the temptation to be lost
in the silken nearness
of your fevered skin
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Ghost Dance Sounds
03/17/03 |
Do you hear the sounds?
Ghosts dancing on the wind.
Cold breath forming a halo
in the night air.
Hear the feet stomping out
a rhythmic beat,
the thump, thump,
of the drums in the distant
echo of the past. Voices raised
...entreating,
summoning the spirits.
Awake, O Spirits, awake.
Come dance with us
in the moonlit fires,
in the passion
of their angry flames.
Empower us
for the new journey
that we must all take.
Can you hear the sounds
of ghosts dancing
across heavy skies?
Can you hear the snake rattles
hissing out a warning?
Do you see them...these ghosts
called to stand beside
all the fallen warriors.
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Vanilla Wind
03/24/03 |
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A vanilla wind wafting through the trees
My heart trembling beneath Love's quiet spell
Sent from a dainty, scented, summer breeze
That captured romantic dreams in Love's well.
Rehearsing a brand new song left unsung
My soul-sent dreams of passions newly found
Could dance vanilla-beamed on my soul's tongue
Pleasured pulse hiding birdsong's warbling sound.
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War Shadows Dim Slumberous
04/02/03 |
First morning's joyous sky...
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Silky shadows dim slumberous
through Iraq. Blue wind's blush
finds acrid cobalt
whispering a pale,
blue light into being.
A sombre, scarlet laugh
telling of sunsets and dawns,
of bloody battles fought
beneath the chilled stare
of missiles and bombs
casting their ominous glow
with a last, midnight flare.
As flames burst forth
and ashes fly...
these young American soldiers
dressed in camouflage
are awed by the fiery sight
illuminating the sky,
tremble at the increased risk
of their own demise.
The enemy views the same sky;
and forms his own thoughts
in the deep, dark caverns
of what he has always been taught.
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Ballet Of The Heart
04/07/03 |
Down the esplanade
of tapestry embellished lanes,
my heart goes twirling by
with toe shoes on pointe.
A rich ballet of love songs
filling the sustained
 chords of adagio
with delightful, grand plies'
My heart dancing
round and round
whirling past
the hour of love
in swirling, rond de jambe.
My heart stepping closer
and closer to yours
dazzling you with
its sweeping movement
of love and forever,
of its heart and soul finale.
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Old Soldier's One-Eyed Dog
04/16/03 |
Sitting in an easy chair
with his one-eyed dog
beside him. Snow on
the blank TV screen. Stars
of the past in his eyes,
desiring the curves
of his blond-haired wife
lost to renal failure.
A cold memory for an empty bed.
At times, pacing his small,
one bedroom apartment, staring
silently at four walls,
vacantly stroking the head
of his one-eyed dog.
Visions of war filling
his eyes with tears of pain,
casualties in his days
and nights. Nothing left
of his love, his life...
just the mournful eye
of his one-eyed dog.
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If These Walls Could Speak
04/23/03
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Here I sit in the Sobro Cafe
listening to the notes
reverberating off the walls
of the Country Music Hall Of Fame.
Ghostly echoes serenading the heart
with the strings of the black guitar
caressed by the fingers
of the man dressed in black.
I feel the spirit of the music
in the resonating tones
a mixture of country, gospel and blues.
It speaks to me of Elvis,
the King of rock and roll;
and his gold Cadillac, his gyrating hips.
It whispers of the mellow voices
of Jim Reeves and Eddie Arnold.
I hear the heartbreaking tales
of love gone wrong, the joyful notes
of love recaptured, of love yearned for,
of love only dreamed about.
I see those pearly gates
in the soulful rendition
of 'Mansion Over The Hilltop,' and I think
that God must look down and smile.
Yet if these walls could speak,
I think they would speak through
the exquisite tones coaxed into being
with the strings of the black guitar
strummed by this man dressed in black.
And, I think this time and this place
would be about the closest thing there is
to being in a Country Heaven.
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Where Legends Live Blue
05/01/03 |
Where legends live
and the thunder drums
I explore the blue shadow
of your spirit
which gently caresses
the blue shadow in mine.
I lift my eyes
to see your whispers
on the wind of my time.
Your love claims my heart
takes it to the summit,
shakes it to the core.
I am crying out
into the night
where blue turns to pure:
pure love, pure joy.
I dance through the eons
of your eternity...and I find
the other side of Heaven.
Angels, white-robed, sing
the song that eternities built.
My love formed, forged
in the blue heat
that singes the deep Eye
Who knows who I am, what
I want to be in your arms.
And, I build legends
while the thunder
drums your love
into the silence
of my night dreams
eternities passing by
in the wink of Love's blue eye.
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Night Of The Dream Chaser
05/12/03
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In the night, her heart
hears the whisper of the wind.
She sees hoops of light
circling round and round,
her feet moving in rhythm
to the dance of the Hoops.
He is far back. Just a blur;
yet she knows his rippling
muscles...each one. She counts
his tepee as an invitation
to be consumed by his passion,
by his heart-felt words of love.
And, she sees a great, white
stallion galloping
out of the mist of her dreams,
chasing the vision of him
into her eager spirit.
She hums quietly in her bed
a love chant, a mating call...
as the Dream Chaser gently nudges her
awakening her to a brand new dawn.
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Since The Rain Drops Fell
07/06/03
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Beneath the rain,
the fresh scent
of washed anew
comes softly through.
Just like the rainfall
that has saturated our love
with a cleansing, a freshness
that makes me ever true
and makes you a better you.
Beneath the rain,
the cleansing waters
of you and I
have washed away the questions of why
and have brought us a fresh, new day.
Just like the rain drops
that soak us through
allowing our love to soar on high,
giving our hearts the wings to fly.
You and I
are beneath the rain,
are in its spell,
since those drops of rain
have touched our hearts...and fell.
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