Cinnamon Sunset
by DG
The last rays of sunlight fade in the west, leaving an orange glimmering of day.
The New Moon rises in the sign of the Virgin, lauding a new era of possibility.
Anointed with oils of patchouli and cinnamon,
the fire of spice enters my veins,
boiling my blood to a simmering temperature,
igniting the fuses of desire,
furnace of passions fire,
which cannot be sated or satiated
until it meets its equal in flame.
Fire that meets measure for measure in brilliance,
heat that exudes will warm the house of my spirit.
The moon is the mirror which reflects the glory of the sun,
your brilliance is reflected in the wells of my eyes,
and the magnificence of my soul is spoken by your words of praise.
Two kings without a kingdom or a crown,
left to wander in the desert on this starry night.
I light the watch fires which will guard us till dawn.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Cinnamon Sunset
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2 comments:
"...boiling my blood to a simmering temperature,
igniting the fuses of desire,
furnace of passions fire,
which cannot be sated or satiated
until it meets its equal in flame."
Aww primo you are so good at this. So much truth in so few words. Thanks for the gift.
Your blog is full of poetic, enlightening, Honest Scrap, so I've nominated you for an award to celebrate all of it. Go to Pagan Culture and collect!
Thanks prima, I've been working on my poems lately because I will be participating in an event in January.
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