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Dennis Cardiff

~ Poems & Prose

Dennis Cardiff

Tag Archives: magic

dream angel

04 Saturday Mar 2017

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

angel, dream, exhaustion, lust, magic, memory, romance

  

fantasy-beauty-lady-wide-wallpaper

 

dream angel
with wings widespread,
scent of tangerine
being peeled
and split
in sections
with my tongue
succulent and welcoming,
juices dripping
on my lips
like the irresistible
tang of brandy,
one taste
never enough —
intoxicate me,
satisfy my thirst,
exhaust me,
until morning
and sleep.

…

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Playful Spirit

11 Friday Apr 2014

Posted by DennisCardiff in Poetry

≈ 79 Comments

Tags

eternal, faeries, fairies, longing, love, magic, magick, pixies, spirits, spirituality, supernatural

fairiesandpixies.

.

Playful spirit behind an oak
laughed and flirted but never spoke.
Eyes of onyx, raven hair,
I marveled at her standing there.

Brilliant sunshine — could barely see.
Had my eyes played tricks on me?
I stood in reverence and awe
not sure of what I thought I saw.

Fluttering soft, the poplar leaves
perhaps, had caused me to believe
I’d seen someone who wasn’t there —
eyes of onyx, raven hair.

The nimble spirit deftly danced
from tree to tree and lightly pranced.
I didn’t know quite what to do
about this vision in my view.

I had no knowledge of such things.
What does one do when nature brings
such beauty, grace and winsome mold
who, I could see but could not hold?

I could have watched her all day long
her movements were just like a song.
She beckoned me with backward glance
down flowered pathway of romance.

I had no choice, I was entranced;
induced to follow where she danced.
The woods had changed, were foreign now,
colors brighter, surreal somehow.

I saw some spirits on the way.
They went about their normal day.
They took no notice of my form
contrary to their spirit norm.

They were at home among the trees;
conversely, I felt ill at ease.
Abandoned, then just like a snare —
eyes of onyx, raven hair.

She drew me close and hugged me tight;
we kissed, caressed throughout the night.
Not a wisp of evanescence,
but a real woman’s presence.

Wood smoke, sweet-grass, musk and cedar —
I took her hand, she let me lead her.
Beneath the boughs we made our bed
while stars shone brightly overhead.

.

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