By Kit Pawson
09/18/00, 7:46:18 AM
The moonlight falls down like a silver rain, gently caressing my face.
I see her as a body of light, descending from the heavens.
She stands before me and beckons me closer.
Under her spell, I gladly go to her.
She reaches out and touches my face, caressing my body with her light.
She kisses me and I hear her voice in my mind, talking to me.
And as our bodies move together on the grass, she tells me stories.
Stories of things long gone, and of things yet to come.
Stories of whole civilizations, of their glory and as time went on, of their collapse and ruin.
Stories of other worlds as can only be seen through her eyes.
But wait, now I can see them too!
I can see their riches and their culture.
I know their history as if it were my own.
But now it fades as I watch her leave.
And as she leaves, I find that I am changed, and yet I stay the same.
I lay there, my body still on the grass.
My heartbeat slowly coming down I wish for her return.
For her touch, like the purest silk on my skin.
When she will once again tell me her stories.
When I will once again be bathed in moonlight.
Just a little freestyle poem I wrote quite some time ago (about 15 years ago, actually), that I finally got around to uploading here.