Samson

You struck the lyre
drowning me in the
depths of brown
and tints of grey….

Your music as
always stirred
ghosts, memories
...nostalgia


I clung to your
distant hum
like a forlorn lady on
the seashore, waiting
for my warrior lover
to come home after
years of voyage.

I sway, eyes closed
with my diadem
made of garnets
and sapphire,
my flowing robe
of silk, clings on
my naked, sunburnt
skin.

You struck the lyre,
with intensity,
beguiling me to dance
faster,
sway faster,
unleashing music
with you.

Stillness…

I tore my gaze away
from the depths of
your glittering brown eyes,
almost black.

The strings of your
guitar broke,
music stopped.

Your eyes now, pleading
dance, create music
with you.

I could not.

My soul is burdened
with words, instead.