Thursday, 24 October 2013



The pearl sat brightly in the slim palm of her hand, spent in droplets, a jewel of sentiment, where silence invades the cavalcade of redolent ease, all measure pleased... Teased between the fingertips of some supple touch.

How he loved her. She would never understand, the depth of his heart like distant sands slipping through the fingers of a grasping hand...

The sweeping chasms of eternity turned upon themselves, into a sky replete with fiery stars, the comets sweep, the glimmer of God's eye, beaming with delight upon the waters between them. Moonlit dappled dreams, swimming in halcyon streams of love, so silent, no brook in feathered meadow had ever run so still. A quiescence unspeakable, no word could share the shallow breath unheard, unspoken, this union in a dream unbroken.

Ever has it been the same, that ember glow doth warm the night, the silent thread in each hearth made bright by decadent fires born below, licking upon the air in the distant hollow of the darkness, tongues of desire, snapping at the clouds, as they roll beneath the heavens gathered by a crowd of stars, like watching pilgrims twinkling in earnest at the show, they rarely stay for the afterglow. But Lovers do... In silence, to slip into a timeless knot, entwined within the heart, their lot, to sink reposed, all else forgot.

He wondered whether in days to come, she might stay a while, as the silence descended, or follow a constant revelry, flitting from flower to flower in the endless search for honey. Even bees rest, and though their nest is quiet in the midnight hour, dressed only in the waxy silence of the cold tower, still they are abuzz when the Sun broaches the dawn, bathing their world in gold.

The pearl swam in her palm, a balm of luminescence, the essence of the gift, each droplet, shone with lustrous sweetness, a lift of loving tenderness.

They sank into silence, enfolded in each others hearts, and though the ember overcame desire, each soul was trussed and blessed within this art, remembrance, like a pearl, of loves first dawning fire.

© Richard Michael Parker 2013