In the hours born of twilight,between day and night,
magical dreams come alive.
with no past and no present,where the future is bent,
a place where thoughts go to hide.
This place nos no pain,no wants or no shame,
never the same, no control.
in through the out door so much to explore,
delving down deep in your soul.
Mosaic and scattered the images gather,
then shattered like shards from a mirror.
a puzzle of paths laid, that lead into space,
so vivid yet each step unclear.
The sense of it all is so senseless,
flying yet falling the same.
In the hours born of twilight between day and night,
your mind plays a magical game.
Blog Posts by michael gardner
In the hours born of twilight,between day and night,
The Pulitzer prize is beyond him, for no one will read what he writes. Educated in labor, no degrees or fine papers, no one to care for his life. He has not a great ambition, or a vision of political gain. He seeks not religion or wealth he can win, wants not for fortune or fame. Still yet his pen consumes him, strapping his heart to each page. painting with pen a picture within, feeling the need to create. Love beyond fiction or fact, just a vision, a mission to make people feel. Intimate preludes of passions construed, someday to make them all real. His heart bleeds in black in white, in droplets he writes, fighting for love to prevail. on a sea of lined paper he's loves great creator, blowing back wind in loves sails..ha,ha tonka trip
With a thundering boom,the sky brightly blooms,
Shimmers of red white and blue.
In the distance a band plays in the parks center stage.
lovers hold hands by the moon.
Little children are everywhere,cotton candy and fair,
glow sticks and flags in the crowd.
Then when the soldiers salute,to the red, white and blue,
Hearts beat as the lights all dim down.
The first one explicit like a rocket exhibit,
firing straight up like a jet.
The second grand folly had shards of gold falling,
exploding to silver and red.
Again and again through the summer time wind,
painting a picture with light.
on a fourth of July home made,where the flag proudly waves,
celebrating freedom and life.4th of july fireworks
Wildflowers bloomed at the foot of the path,Read More »from Where the Wildflowers Grow
as they passed from the sunlight to shade.
the forest much cooler than the sunlight so humid,
trees arching down like a maze.
Hand in hand climbing the hillside,
winding through meadows and creeks.
two beating hearts with love on their minds,
eager to see where love leads.
The whole world is now bowed before them,
her hair gently blows in the wind.
his hands wrap around her the kiss is astounding,
loudly the thunder begins.
No ones around them for a mile maybe two,
as kisses and blue eyes engage.
she feels every droplet and knows that she's wet,
still from his touch no escape.
soaked to the skin still yet burning,
naked and numb to the rain.
taken to new heights with each muffled sigh,
lost in the field where they lay.
Passion soaked slick and so sexy,
letting go feeling alive.
and the wildflowers bloom at the foot of the path,
and they wearing nothing but a smile.
In the land of the sun stands a shire,
just bordering Shines precious realm.
The castles once built here have long disappeared,
still loyalty and royalty prevail.
The subjects of Shine still pay homage,
long live the kingdoms fair queen.
pilgrims of old still travel Shines roads,
yet harder to get to it seems.
Her armies stand grand and still gallant,
defending the ways of the realm.
yet with Shine comes peace and for war there's no need,
for love springs from deep and pure wells.
The elders keep secrets that no one dare speak of,
magic and romantic spells.
and in all of Shines glory they say miracles flourished,
legends of old told in tales.
Shines nights still hold stardust and the promise of love,
each day is bathed in pure gold.
endless the treasures wrapped in Shines great pleasures,
the kingdom I'm proud to call home.,
She's at that age that time spins fast,
yet she's learned to slow it down.
she knows exactly what she wants,
and has learned to work things out.
Her health and scars she works on hard,
and her hearts had time to heal.
she's at that stage where beauty stays,
she's found love for real.
She's at that age of comfort,
and starlit summer walks.
she's at that age of stay up late,
just to sit and talk.
She doesn't dream the same dreams,
that she did before.
but memories have replaced some dreams,
with things she loves much more.
She's at that age where nothings staged,
and says just what she means.
she doesn't hide behind white lies,
or tries to make a scene.
She's confident and sexy,
in oh so many ways.
and I love the shine in my lovers eyes,
because she's at that age.
lovers cloudThrough the smokey dark clouds and the bone chilling mist,
love burns a hole in the night.
Pushing back storms so the heart may be warm,
painting the stars back in skies.
With the heart all a flutter with thoughts of a lover,
joyous and wonderfully filled.
No more the gray void of life without joy,
but knowing that love is still real.
The dancing inside of you only true love can do,
waltzing in dreams wide awake.
longing for arms of love then feeling their touch,
blessed by the love that Gods made.
suddenly lovely's born from the nothing,
each breath much deeper and sweet.
all at once whole again with love in the wind,
ending in lonely s defeat.
In orbs of teal and stardust,
his will had lost its way.
tangled in red locks and milky white skin,
his heart had gone astray.
His world he could see in her eyes emerald green,
each taste of her kiss drops of life.
raging with passion, attracted like magnets,
Magic, pure love undenied.
His heart beat in rhythms of ramparts,
exploding in pleasures sweet waves.
with each tender touch he felt more in love,
engulfed in the flames that they made.
She too had been moved by his eyes baby blue,
truly a man among men.
a gentleman lover who knew how to touch her,
caressing her soul from within.
Their chemistry was charged with love from the heart,
their bodies so perfectly matched.
clothed in a passion they call everlasting,
Magic the love they've unwrapped.
She painted more than pictures,Read More »from Bed Time Stories
with each new tale she'd weave.
memories of long ago,
fueled by make believe.
not exactly truthful,
but close enough for yarns.
they sat and listened so intent,
wrapped in mothers arms.
stories of tall castles,
with kings and queens arrayed.
unicorns with magic horns,
in lands so far away.
always so familiar,
the prince with all his charms.
and the princes too with eyes so blue,
golden locks were born.
dragons kept adventures fed,
with flames and giant wings,
and romanced bloomed in rose filled rooms,
where magic harps would sing.
Happy ever after ,
the stories always closed.
tucked in tight with a kiss good night,
dreams they both could hold.
Three days of darkness, thunder and quakes,
entombed in a cave by a stone.
In the air constant weeping, faith shattered and weakening,
then came the day he arose.
The sun too had broke out and parted the clouds,
coming to life once again.
love has been lifted to cries that he lives,
drying the tears of his friends.
rejoicing confusion, real life not illusion,
bruises and scars in his side.
clothed in white linen, death couldn't win,
the king of the Jews is alive.
He's arose he's arose Gods son has arose,
claiming his throne by gods side.
and the world that once shunned him, he forgave all their sins,
Knowing that loves still alive.