Unbroken Waves of La Luna has been published in All of Me Vol. V, courtesy of Shadow Spark Publishing. Featured art is by Ashley Cook.
Listen to Unbroken Waves of La Luna by Richard Charles Stevens (Lovers Suite)
Listen to Be My Lover by La Bouche
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To reliantly breathe
To feel finally free
.
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To reliantly breathe
To feel finally free
.
There she awaited—
far and away from the day to day debris of stresses undulatory
Some place she remembered from a dream
a page unwritten less that be when she be touched by sleep
the castle keep of fathom deep
wherein no woes resided
no sense misspent of discontent
no feeling unrequited
some place where the toils of life were strictly uninvited
some place where her voice relied on vision to transcribe this
.
There she awaited—
With wild eyes at their widest
delighting a breathtaking scene
bedecked in the diamonds of skies on the rise in a high tide of aquamarine
horizons were some way from bleak
and indeed
the sun burned ever brightly as it turned the other cheek
meanwhile the moon dressed in silver flecked tunic addressed of elusive mystique
Conducive with lunar themed dream
.
Dream (repeat)
.
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To reliantly breathe
To feel finally free
.
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To reliantly breathe
To feel finally free
.
There she awaited—
Refusing to speak
for the words upon her tongue were spun of blooming romantique
something unspoken for aeons in sweep
to talk of such alone would have felt cheap
Thus she patiently bided her time in reliance of faith that equated the science of sleep
as treasured reminders
the groundwaters seeped
enriching the harvest beneath her bare feet
floorboards creaked to break sweetly the silence
persuading the maiden to peeking behind her
.
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To be seen
To be seen
To be finally seen
To reliantly breathe
To feel finally free
.
There she awaited—
a fate some way kinder
than the destiny detestably denied her as a child
the one that flashed before her eyes for every time she smiled
Running wild and free
had always been her favoured theme
Alas for all impassioned pleas
the barren trees caressed no breeze
blackened leaves dormant as she fashioned streams of tears
long captured in the sediment of very many years
.
(Dream)
(Dream)
(Dream)
(Dream)
There she awaited—
one kiss bled of truth
the heady most berries of reddest vermouth
the ferry of calm midst an ocean of balm
devotedly charmed to her cause
(Dream)
(Dream)
Pausing to marvel remarkable view
the maiden felt swayed by the daisies in ever harmonious partnering bloom
Her heart was a masterpiece
such blushed her steepened arteries
the colour of her lips attested
shade of vision double-breasted
blessèd the provisions of a love bereft of ending
the destined friend she never left behind
.
(Dream)
(Dream)
(Dream)
(Dream)
(Dream)
(Dream)
.
There she awaited—
Orchestrating space and time
Invigorating braid of twine
as here the wake of dreams combined
The palace of her mind
had pandered not to redesign
For every detail dressed reflection
unimpressed of misdirection
The crest of a wave blest of effortless brave
every dreamscape foreseen in its reconvening wake
.
There she awaited—
This one wave unbroken
A daisy chain famed
reclaimed of aeons unspoken
Her soul was ablaze
and her heart cage wide open
The wings of a butterfly
Freed from their chains
To be seen through the very same eyes was a prize that delighted the coulis of luminate veins
.
In the treetop she perched
Amidst rise of the leaves
The herald of winter twirled fervently keen
Beneath her bare feet
As she further relieved every teardrop released from her nurturing keep
and indeed
she was forevermore seen
.
There she awaited
No more
For the maiden now felt ceaselessly adored
The maiden now felt ceaselessly adored
.
Richard Charles Stevens
Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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