She’s not pretty. She’s beautiful.
She’s got a faraway look in her eye
that tells the story of a pale green moon that rises
over shadowy plains and darkened canyons .
You feel the distance as you walk beside her;
you hold her hand when she’s not there.
She whispers to you in your dreams
of secret places where lovers stare
into starry skies on cloudless nights
and wonder if the world will remember…
she walks in beauty.

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I didn’t write this script.
I was running with scissors and I tripped
and I guess I cut out the last scene;
the one where the boy gets the girl and the whole world rejoices
and when he looks back at all of his choices,
he smiles.
The “happy ever after”,
full of love, life and laughter
was in my grasp, so close, I could feel it,
like that apple high on the tree that I had to climb to reach.
And when I skinned my heart and skinned my knee,
I fell to earth once more to see
the sun setting on a life like mine
where love grows wild
like clementine.

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She sneaks into my room at night;
from the darkness, she just appears.
I feel her warmth upon my skin;
I hear her breathing in my ear.

I touch her face; I touch her legs.
She tilts her head back as if to beg
for more.
I wrap her gently in my arms;
if I ever lost her it would be a great pity.
For she’s more than just my night time muse.
She’s my constant companion; she’s a really good

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so easily bruised
that gossamer skin;
an eggshell of defenseless love where memories swim
in yellow light that once was blue.

so easy to choose,
so hard to fit in
when all around you, the angels sing
with voices lower than anything you could lose.

so comes the good news
that a true heart has found you;
you never gave in, you never drowned
in tears that you never cried nor love you never used.

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A reliable source told me that the secret was kept
in the saddle bag of a horse that galloped to where she slept
on a bed of white, curled safe against the cold; her dark hair gracing a pillow white as snow.
Step quietly into that room so as not to waken your heart
that was stirred but not shaken, that would flutter but not break,
that would look over your shoulder to the place that you started.
Breathe slowly; let your eyes adjust to the dim light within.
Find your way beside her. A willow reaches down to guide you.
Don’t let your pride deny you your prize.
For the princess of angels is waiting again
as in golden times for the dawning of men
who meant what they say and say what they mean.
The secret is kept in nights of blue and days of green.

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Swing a leg over, baby and I’ll take you on a rocket ship ride.
Hold on tight and close your eyes; you’ll know for sure when you’ve arrived.
Bite down on your lower lip if and when you feel the need.
We’ll start out slow, I promise; when you’re ready, we’ll pick up speed.
I’m staring at Venus again. I’m holding the moon in my hands.
And now there is nothing between us, save the best laid plans.
A Centaur gallops t’ward you now; his gaze you can’t avoid.
He rears up in the black of night. Relax. Breathe deep. Enjoy.
We’ll burn through every drop of fuel. We’ll shoot across the sky like stars.
And when we land on earth again, the morning will be ours.

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on a lover’s cross

my last night on calvary, he whispered as he closed his eyes.
only stars in a tear filled sky, an angel by his side.
sleep now, prince, the angel pled, and fold your love in linen white;
the time has come to rest your heart and fill your soul with golden light.

drink one more glass of tea in eden, cast one more glance at a starry sky.
and least of all, the angel’s kiss is sure as glimmers in the eye
of parted souls, of journeys taken and memories tossed
into the mind of those awakened by dreams they had and loves they lost.

tremble not when thunder wakes you, look in to the sky and wonder
where it all went right, where you loved that last night
on calvary.

and bury not your dreams like a dagger in the heart of what you thought really mattered.
kiss me once and love me more
than all the waves that crashed on shores
of blue-black velvet under starry skies.
sleep prince, sleep angel; close again your perfect eyes.

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I’m lying at the beach now, I’m soaking in the sun.
I’m looking at my angel, she is the only one
whose eyes confound me, whose love surrounds me
with each breath, with each golden moment that shines like the moon over Taormina.
Closing my eyes, looking only inside
at my Karin, my woman, my bride.
who serves a subpoena
that locks my arms behind my heart and tells me clearly we soon will start
a journey, a life full of hope and promise.
I love you, angel. My dreams are tossed
like the salad we ate upon the beach, like the memory so within reach
as now.

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Tonnara Di Scopella

The full moon smiles from raven skies
and lights the world to newborn eyes
that close as gently as the last page from your favorite book.
A subtle kiss on a ruby cheek; a warm embrace that makes weak
the strong and the shortest day seems long
like those loving looks, those pages from books
written by sages, and upon whose pages
tear-stained memories stop you short in your tracks.
And then, as ever, you would always look back
with a toss of your hair and a smile on your lips,
and with a breath you would sigh and ever admit …
I love you.

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Shall I smite thee, Satan, with the right hand of truth

or heal thee with the left hand of love?

Shall I share the light that glows in my heart

or is darkness always enough

to light your path, to show the tread from moonlit forests to lovelorn wrath?

Her eyes are bright like diamonds, I confess.

Her whisper is the night’s caress.

She guides me with her thoughts and prayers

down hellish caverns, up holy stairs

where cats convene on evenings quiet.

My heart’s content, I cannot deny it.

She breathes into my dreams at night

like whispers of smoke from fire light.

And when I wake to give my weary tressses a simple shake

I smile, and all the precious while

she greets my heart with a simple wish …

upon my lips … an angel’s kiss.

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