In the green meadow by the lake,
the moon and I knit poetry of silk,
the language of the birds sleeps in the trees
like ripened fruits
your eyes are closed and faraway
the world rotates between two cherries and a kiss
stars rise over old memories of purple seas
like cherry buds
there was a glass of wine and an abyss
forgotten in the bloom of the first holy water
I tie your hands with ribbons made of dreams
I seal your chest with roses and with amber
oh, it’s midnight and I must leave
yet not before
on your shaved face
the moon and I
drop dew
and virgin violets
~ Gabriela M.
United States
Beautiful poem
A beautiful poem
Beautiful! :-)
Stunning imagery in this wonderful poem.
Beautiful
Good Lord, Gabriela!!! So very beautiful. Thank You and Cheers!!! :)
Nice poem
A fantastic poem indeed, Gabriela, I’m
lost in your poem the whole night
Wish u all the best
Beautiful imagery: ‘the language of birds sleeps in the trees’. You have a light touch and a mind of clarity. Wonderful to read.
Angels don’t pass on
They just shine brighter
In a another realm
So I will always
Look out for her
In the sky !
Your lines…
Like goblets of red wines…
Beautiful
Really lovely. Inspiring in times such as these!
Beautiful, lovely…just, not enough! ♥♥
A beautiful,heady mix of sight,sound and love
Wao, my heart feels only your words. Thanks dear.
It’s magical.❤️
artful imagery
such a beautiful poem:)