Whelve

“to bury something deep, to hide”

BURIED LOVE

I shall bury my weary Love
Beneath a tree,
In the forest tall and black
Where none can see.

I shall put no flowers at his head,
Nor stone at his feet,
For the mouth I loved so much
Was bittersweet.

I shall go no more to his grave,
For the woods are cold.
I shall gather as much of joy
As my hands can hold.

I shall stay all day in the sun
Where the wide winds blow,
But oh, I shall weep at night
When none will know.

Sara Teasdale

CA Beach Wedding
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Nubivagant

“moving amongst clouds”

ENCHANTED LOVE’S DWELLING PLACE

They were clouds but they formed the longest white feathers it wasn’t the noted war bonnet of the
Plains no this was a head dress for a maiden that could only be the glory of love embodied to look was
To stall and stop time your breath slows your eyes grow wide in the throes of elements started in loves
Dreams untamed without bounds or borders the cherished object grew it was everything man knew and
Then more was created as the heart dared explore all the possibilities love drew and did spew the
Tantalizing the finest detail from the long mist of islands truly cloaked in mystery she walked somber
Paths her silence and grace tripped the scale of wonder elegance it termed in language that only poets
Could write her soft touch was the trinity of sun light moon light as it practiced the art of creating
Earthen things by just a softening glow with at touch of waters mist to complete the total design of
Natural fabrication out of all that is natural and human it bespeaks of spiritual clandestine movements
That created life in the first place all this resides in her eyes and the starry crown she adorns in the night
Watch where she shares her magic to all who seek loves possessive hold on every fragment of thought
And being stir this scene with angelic fingers romance set adrift with the power to make emotions that
Last beyond life times the bedrock foundations of generations from thee eternal sky her forever

Hal Loyd Denton

California Beach Wedding Inspiration
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Brontide

“the low rumble of distant thunder”

What was more startling than the intense roar of thunder
sounding through the ever growing darkness
beyond my door,
was the sudden realization
that nothing would ever be as it once was
and never would it be again

Though the rain must fall
to brighten the days ahead
nothing was certain now
nor of tomorrow
and tomorrow again

Certainty had vanished along with the thunder
and left the darkness
beyond my door

Shazz Manji

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California

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