Heaven Scent




 Featured art by Pol Ledent. Click here to visit his studio.



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Robert Miles “Children (Orchestral Version)”





As I placed my heavy heart into the palms of her hands
I shed a single tear of consolation
Finally released of consternation long bequeathed as I proceeded to believe that love was solely passing season to bereave
I felt the kind of charmed serene to calm its charging beat
Retreating from the frenzy of the entropy ostensibly relieved
Now seemed like the ideal time to breathe the air of She
Fill my lungs to infinite capacity
Exceeding that which actual fact suspends some way from evergreen belief
Reclined beneath the mighty oak
In shade of its inviting coat
Our feet were bare
Our toes spread wide
Our eyes composing ode in kind
Locked tight within the gaze defined by two stray souls that one time fell to wayside
Sat astride the quayside
Creaming pebbles cross the evanescing tide
Little devils in most heavenly preside
Barely even seven
Yet already midst the twilight of our lives
Famed for braiding twine of days to nights
Fairy tales bore both our names upon their faded spines
Fables of audacious claim perpetuating greater sight
Prelude to a whispered kiss of delicate delight
This dream sublime as seen through waking eyes
Now seemed like the ideal time to breathe the air of She
Open wide my lungs
Request She climb the rungs to infinite capacity
My steady heart imparted beat which cooled the air of parching heat
While severed from its arteries
It never cared for marching to defeat
The single tear I wept
She kept as keepsake in an ornate locket
With that my eyes lit up my face akin to brace of bottle-rockets
One fine day
By favoured luck
She may just slide her dainty hand into the tailored pocket at her waist
Open wide
Reclaim the heart inside
Recline beneath almighty oak
In shade of its enticing coat
With both feet bare
And toes spread wide
Compose an ode proposed by kindest eyes
Ankle deep at quayside
Wading gaily through ravine of timeless tide




Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill





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    1. I love that you did, Mouse. Of all the poetry I write, it is love sonnets such as this where I glean the most peace. Thus, hearing that it helped ward off those pesky thoughts fills me and spills me of glee.

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