Anwylyd

Anwylyd

Under a canopy of midnight velvet,
sacred oaks stand sentinel.
The naked earth is our bed.
In the sanctuary of your embrace
lies the home of my heart.
I float in the dark waters of your eyes,
lulled by the drumbeat in your chest,
drunk on your honeyed lips
and the warmth of your skin against mine.
You breathe my breath, I taste your tears,
we two become one.
The stars spiral within us
until they cannot be contained,
then blaze through the sky like a dragon's flame.
As the flame dies to embers,
languorous, entwined, we dream.

anwylyd: (ann-WILL-ith) beloved, Welsh

Wendy Lorcalon

June 11, 2008