A knock on my
door,
only to hear
the emptiness
of missing words.
A look
from hurting eyes,
seeing
only distance so close.
I listen for sounds,
sounds of hearts
when there was
love.
Softly a knock
on my door,
only to feel the
pain fade away.
A knock,
then no more,
only silence,
at my door.

©ScottLB

Before Dawn

Quickly the clouds of the
whispering night
lay rest to tender woes.
Thy light glows brightly
as the northern star,
A wish I place before thee.
Touching thine heart's desire,
no more forsaken pleasures
we share.
Day break arrives,
wouldst thou dream of the
sweetness as sweet in
whispers, as lovers lay.
Nestled as one by thy side,
a kiss, before the dawn
ends our stay.
In forms of madness
I pray,
a wish be but truth
wovest in dreams and
prayers of this,
a wish for a lonely heart's
desire.

Dreamers

A time I speak
of dream wishes,
To fly away on
purple clouds
into green skies
with rose petal
raindrops.
Each breeze
carrying
a scent of
honeysuckle
blossoms.
Rivers run long,
long as a wish
for more.
I dream of
giants sipping
tea from
tiny teacups,
speaking of
peaceful times,
how the world
became one.
Dreamers wish,
as a gnat flys
to the elephant's
ear, just
to say,
I
dream of you.
In dreams,
no matter the wishes,
we dream.
Away I fly
on a chariot
of thoughts
into
the green sky,
and I will dream,
of you.
Peace

©ScottLB

Poet's Jasmine

I kiss the sky,
as the wish blows.
on lips so soft,
soft as the gentle
night.
A flower's perfumed
scent,
I carry you
in my thoughts,
held in  place
with the grace of
passionate memories.
As we lay on
green fields,
the jasmine blooms
above our cries.
A touch between
nothingness and
there,
bodies moving
in rhythm
to the monarch's
flight and the wind's
breath.
Heighten senses
of two,
held in memory
as the poet's jasmine
blossom's bloom.

©ScottLB

To Wonder

I have but to wonder, if the rain were
my tears.
A river should I cry, for less would not
bring such sadness as
a heart longing for a  peace unfound.
Could one wish on the glimpse of hope
and dream into existence life's love,
even at the end.
A word means no more tomorrow, than
today, but a tear will always fall
as the river runs, should I cry for less?
I have but to wonder.

©ScottlB

Winter Comes

The frost bears down on beaten leaves,
scattered remnants of autumn's finale.
Now they lay on sodden fields,
lifeless memories,
winter comes.

A color of decay fills the air as sounds die,
fading in the morning mist.
On solitary fields has only one felt the
chill as it speaks, a voice upon the winds
whispering, "winter comes."

Gray skies and the stillness set in,
reaching out as the coldness touch.
We are tucked in for the long sleep,
under blankets of snow winter creeps,
the winds howl,
"winter comes."

©ScottlB

We Can

When I sit and watch the Sun's final dance,
before the twilight,
I can only think of brown eyes hidden
behind a fading smile.
A voice
weaving golden sounds, words of magic
whispered as the moon cast images
of shadows holding hands.
When I sit and watch the moon, it begins
a silent song of lovers afar, as they search
the blackened sky for that one star.
When I sit and watch the Sun's final dance,
before the twilight,
I can only feel the moon's silent song.
It brings my smile, and only then
I know,
together we can last forever.

©ScottlB