Monday
Evening has fallen here. And with the sun goes most of the oppressive heat. Some still lingers, hanging about the air. waiting for me to walk outside so that it can beat about my shoulders and slide down my back.
Evening. Gloaming.
The time when light meets Dark. The time where fairies awaken. Leaves thrill and hold still. They wait for the middle nights...so they can be impregnated with dew.
Gloaming is magic.
Lightening bugs flutter for you. within thier wings they hold my kisses. And in their light therein lies my love. Teeny sparkels of it.
The warm wind sweeps over my cheast and it takes my breath from me.
It steals my whispers.
It hugs them and holds them and the warm winds bring it over hills and over rivers...to where you lie. To where you drink your coffee on your bench.
To where the sun may grace your face, and where the shadows dance across your dark hair. And there my love....My whispers...
Have you felt them?
Can you open your mouth and feel the warm wind send you my kisses.....open for them...
-A lady loved.
