Post by goldenmyst on Sept 23, 2018 19:34:30 GMT -6
Baklava & Amaretto
Baklava love under the Amaretto sky with almond wine is imbibed like the summer in St. Tropez. The Mediterranean laps our shore like the lick of a lover to prepare our Greek pastry dream to sprout wings and fly into the night sky.
My tongue teases apart the fillo dough like the layers of beauty wherein lies Walnuts to crunch into pieces of heaven. Lady and I gaze out upon the moonlit sea quake which beckons our subterranean hearts.
The distance of eye light from across the light years is closed in a single blink of eternity until our stars dance in a close orbit of fire and darkness. The sweet song of honey layered Greek pastry becomes a womanly taste rivaling the fruit of Eden with its temptation to the nectar of love’s sugary essence.
Each bite is followed by a swallow of nutty flavored liquor until the gold gleam in her eyes becomes the echo of lamplight which penetrates her iris with luminous seeds. Each drop glows with preternatural homilies of words turned into reflections of gaslight. In her orbs, the lessons of history are remembered through smoky moods which tell the tale of a woman who has been through the ages and found the Gospel of love.
With each shift of her gaze her emanations go from sorrow to joy and all between. The underground of her soul is released as her trust in me gains strength to migrate like a bird whose feathers flutter on the brink of flight.
Midnight arrives in our café of the heart with her smile growing into a sunflower of Holy Scripture. Her Biblical lilt levitates my heart into a balloon which rises toward the stars like in a dare to touch them. But gravity tethers me to her earthy realm to know and feel the woman that she is. The night bends space and time to wrap around us like neon whispers on the streets of Athens.
Baklava love under the Amaretto sky with almond wine is imbibed like the summer in St. Tropez. The Mediterranean laps our shore like the lick of a lover to prepare our Greek pastry dream to sprout wings and fly into the night sky.
My tongue teases apart the fillo dough like the layers of beauty wherein lies Walnuts to crunch into pieces of heaven. Lady and I gaze out upon the moonlit sea quake which beckons our subterranean hearts.
The distance of eye light from across the light years is closed in a single blink of eternity until our stars dance in a close orbit of fire and darkness. The sweet song of honey layered Greek pastry becomes a womanly taste rivaling the fruit of Eden with its temptation to the nectar of love’s sugary essence.
Each bite is followed by a swallow of nutty flavored liquor until the gold gleam in her eyes becomes the echo of lamplight which penetrates her iris with luminous seeds. Each drop glows with preternatural homilies of words turned into reflections of gaslight. In her orbs, the lessons of history are remembered through smoky moods which tell the tale of a woman who has been through the ages and found the Gospel of love.
With each shift of her gaze her emanations go from sorrow to joy and all between. The underground of her soul is released as her trust in me gains strength to migrate like a bird whose feathers flutter on the brink of flight.
Midnight arrives in our café of the heart with her smile growing into a sunflower of Holy Scripture. Her Biblical lilt levitates my heart into a balloon which rises toward the stars like in a dare to touch them. But gravity tethers me to her earthy realm to know and feel the woman that she is. The night bends space and time to wrap around us like neon whispers on the streets of Athens.
