Goosebumps…

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Reading unvoiced
tremor of nervousness,
as Braille under
caressing fingertips,
he recited in stilted sighs
a sonnet of desire scribed
on her skin in moonlit silence
drunk on love’s chardonnay.

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Dusk to Dawn…

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amethyst skies
at crepuscular hour
are reflected on sapphire waters,
as epistles of poetic calligraphy
resonating with versatile hues,

when the topaz sun
is gobbled as mandarin morsel
and periwinkle heights
pantomime a giant chrysoberyl,
of oxymoron shades
soon blending into
an obsidian night.

the opal moon
ailing with insomnia pours over
ivory, printed volumes,
in long hours of silent onyx night,
and the diamond stars
effulgent above peer at the lovers
painting rainbow dreams
within molasses of eyelashes.

budding chartreuse whispers
kiss fringes of
a blossoming tourmaline dawn,
the sky like an armful of scented orchids
with a silver lunar sliver
on the distant aquamarine,
like a half forgotten love song
lingering on edge of reverie.

Medley ~Versatile thoughts in Vignettes

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love letters
scribbled by fingertips
of winter sunshine,
on burnished epistles
of autumn
in wilted November,

float
whispering
in cinnamon syllables,
a fragrant tale of love
nascent yet withered
from boughs
of vibrant imagery.

dredges
of stale cappuccino
in paper-cup preoccupations,
remind of conversations
in moonlight
between the starstruck.

proclivities
of a precocious dawn
are painted in medley of hues
as reiterated colors
on azure canvas at gloaming.

cobblestone sores
are pitchers of pouring rain,
rippling with
rhapsodies born in
tempest’s tenebrosities
and oft crooned
by wet, rustling foliage.

croissants are
like moments of love
shared in togetherness
lingering sweetly
on tongue of reverie.

Chanted Lines of Poetry

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When I die~
embalm my skin with sonnets
fresh n’ fragrant
from the stalks of imagery,

shower me
not with reluctant roses
and strings of singed marigolds,
but let poetry
echo from hard bound silences,

let murmured hymns
whispered threadbare down eons
be replaced with
lines of vibrant vignettes~
replete with emotion,

read to me
from volumes of ornate metaphor
bathing me in
dewdrops of imagination,
pour a fluid cinquain
down my parched throat.

cover me
with a spun fabric
sequined in versicolor haiku,
such that
the flames of blazing pyre
chant verses
to ignite poetry in
fertile minds of posterity…