Mystical

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Stardust and Magical Things

I find freedom in being captured,

By that arresting gaze,

Time stands still, and so do I,

Scouring for befitting words of praise.

But before I can compose a verse,

Your hand is in mine,

As I fall away from rational thought,

The sky seems amaranthine.

You're an enchantment,

Superposing the lines on our palms,

Imprinting on our soul strings,

A love, eternal as the Psalms.

As the crimson beams, herald a goodbye,

Entangled in my fingers, you leave,

Some warmth and some stardust,

On a magical eve!

Psalms: a sacred song or poem used in worship

 

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