Erato’s Love Notes Part 7

We

Are destined to dwell

In the wake of love

Till death do us part

(so, we

would be best to save

all the bright wonders

of our words to heal

the worlds

of hurt we endure

through blunders of time

until it is dead —

buried

by love).

Erato’s Love Notes Part 6

Through painting felt, yet 
unseen, except 

by heartstrings, love speaks
In melody
Always on the verge of ecstasy

With words falling 

Into place, simultaneously 

Upon every one 
Of my senses. 

To the Nines: The Songbook of the Muses — Erato’s Love Notes (…still in progress) 

5. Like springs of our own musings

…We wake the dead
With our shadows, marauding midnight of its silences…

Improvising night from day.

4. Her lips are the pigment of
Poetry, tasting like the love
She promised to only me
In words foretold
By my dreams.

3. Come what may, devoted
day by day (…’til no end)
To the dance of our wandering stars
With steps choreographed
by the glow of our souls, as
Andromeda falls
upon her Milky Way, invoking
The Muses to harmonize to the nines
Love into our eyes, so we can hear
The lush hums of the spheres.

2. Her body hides in words
I’d love to browse fore I drowse
Dreaming poetry.

1. I want to walk your
Fingertips, & follow what remains
Of this road for me.