October's Song

The grasping, gaunt fingers of a hundred wretched trees strained towards the cold, uncaring heavens, reaching nothing, yet filling the night with their silent screams of desperate frustration. The great frozen orb of the autumn moon rose ponderously over the horizon, casting a wan glow upon the stark woods of trembling, be-nuded trees. Pale shafts of cold liquid fire lay in small pools on the path upon the windswept hillside. I started and turned as a small bolt of lightning tore through my tightened heart, deep electric cold and burning, like a frozen rapier through my very soul. Emerging from the depths of the shadows' mystery you appeared upon the path below. The dark pools of your eyes pulled at me, plucking at the tattered fringe of my sanity. As the night's vesper breeze lifted the hair at your side, sweeping it up like the dark gleaming expanse of a giant raven's wing, I stood entranced, weakened, enthralled. Lit by the night's quiet flame, held close by the languid, heavy shadows, you stood quietly, dominating my senses by your presence alone. Black silk and tempting lace, the dress but an ornament pale beside the great beauty it enshrined. A low, plaintive low escapes my trembling lips as I stretch out my arm, questing beyond the mortal frame, reaching for that vision which lies before me. Walk with me tonight my love, take my hand and my heart for as surely as you have already taken my soul. Written March 26th, 2002 © on Mar 26 2002 02:50 AM PST   0 • 8