The Frosted Glades of Everlong

Featured art by Pedro Díaz Molins

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Vlada Mars “Wind In My Soul”

These woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
– Robert Frost

I found my safe place
In the same place it was all along
As unlaced as the orchard bird’s song
Amid rustle of leaves and in bustling throng
I found my safe place
Of impassioned embrace
Now my eyes tell my face it belongs

I am love
Not a single blush less
Aside from this smile
I’m undressed
Each horizon feels fresh
For the moonlight is blessed
Every night I delight its caress
I am love
Every kiss such attests
Whether nose, lips, wrists, shoulders or breasts
Not a morsel of bitterness left
Not a thought for permission’s consent
Not a single contrition to vent
I am love
Not a single blush less

I found my safe place
Where good neighbours make no fences
Where attack is out of whack to as to exactly where the very best defense is
Not an action tensive
Not a fraction apprehensive
For I may lack common sense
But I am stacked with active senses
I can see, hear, smell, taste, touch
And such is very much reflective
Now my eyes tell my face it belongs

My courage and brave is ten thousand cats strong
Unlaced and graced as the orchard bird’s song
Amid rustle of leaves and in bustling throng
In the same place it was all along
I know what is right and know well what is wrong
Know only too well consequences
Of impassioned embrace
Having found my safe place
Where good neighbours make no wasteful fences

I am not a teacher
But awakener like Frost
Reacquainted with the night
Yet, I am never one time lost
For I am seen
In kind, believed in
Thus forever heal whence bleeding
Wear each scar as a reminder
Of the finery of seedling
The only way around and very best way out is through
Poetry emotes when thoughts and words are spoken true
I am not a teacher
But awakener like Frost
I am love
Like every one of you

Beneath the staircase
There’s a safe place
In the same place it was all along
As unlaced as the orchard bird’s song
Amid rustle of leaves and in bustling throng
For everlong
One endless dream
And miles to go before we sleep