She was a melody, a flute
She was the voice of skylarks at the breaking point
when summer’s
close to spring.
Her hands were doors to other doors
a dream
for something more.
Her tresses warm
when I held her in my arms.
We met with night,
We met with moon a sickle,
a beginning
when it all felt right.
She unfolded, bloomed and I fell
asleep,
Her breath
had such tender skin (like death)
I must have snored
cause when I woke, with just her scent
pressed like flowers in a book.
I realized I could have dreamt.
Danae by Egon Schiele
Today it’s open link at dVerse Grace is hosting. Come with any poem and join us when we open at 9 PM CET.
—
January 12, 2017
Oo oh, a nice sense of mystery….
I like how you engaged all the senses into a dreamlike poetic setting.
“She” to me, is the bride and rock of democracy….”Her hands were doors to other doors
a dream….while we were sleeping, she slipped away…and I already miss her dark tresses ( warmth and depth of her being and how many she may have touched)…when she bloomed it was wonderful..to not see her again or the possible dream is devastating….anyway, this touched me today.
I love the dream-like mystery, ending with the puzzle of her scent ~ The twist to endings and/or beginnings is challenging ~
Oh my…her scent pressed like flowers in a book..how lovely and romantic and yet, how sad.
Such a romantic you are, brother, wow. A stirring & sensual romp with a nice poetic twist for sure. I love Kathy’s comment about “She” being Democracy, for she is slipping away with each trumped day. I love your line /we met with moon a sickle/–an image worth borrowing some time.
When reality feels like a dream, or perhaps vice versa. Love the thoughts of summer and spring, leaves me longing for those warmer nights!
Some say we are only dreaming this world and I love the imagery of ‘her hands were doors to other doors – a dream for something more’. A beautiful write Björn :o)
This is so beautifully lyrical….as one line is linked to the other in such a musical way. Such a gentle poem….don’t snore, Bjorn. It’s a dream breaker. LOL!
I like how the love poem ended with the suggestion that it could have been a dream.
Beautiful poem, Bjorn, I loved the closing lines and I really liked imagining someone being “a door to other doors”. It is such a strong image for me that it beckons painting, photography, surrealism, creation.
There is delicate gentle feel to this, like the caress of a lover you do not wish to wake for fear that you discover she is not real. Beautiful.
The first few times I read this, I thought it was so beautiful, romantic, and sensual, especially these lines:
“She was the voice of skylarks at the breaking point”
“Her hands were doors to other doors”
“Her tresses warm / when I held her in my arms”
“Her breath / had such tender skin”
But this time around, I had to giggle at this line break:
“She unfolded, bloomed and I fell
asleep”
… It makes it seem like you’re just about to say you fell in love, but instead, you fell asleep. 🙂 So now I’m wondering if she bored you. Maybe the poem really wasn’t meant to be romantic after all.
An oniric experience – especially loved the hands that were doors to other doors. But why do you think you snored and scared her off?
This feels like a waltz! Such a bewitching vibe especially in the lines; “Her breath had such tender skin (like death), I must have snored
cause when I woke, with just her scent pressed like flowers in a book.
I realized I could have dreamt.” My new favourite from you, Bjorn 😀
Really loved this
I also like the dream-like sense in this piece. Well done.
Verses worthy of Klimt.
Romance, lovely, and mysterious ending. Was she real? Or just a dream
The beauty of “she was a melody, a flute” pulled me into the dream.
What a gorgeous way to describe her scent–“pressed like flowers in a book”! And there is such a tenderness throughout….gives it a dreamlike quality.
makes me sleep now, and dream of her.
Oh my, I wish it was more than just a dream ~ beautiful piece Bjorn! ❤
she’s so lovely and you described her well, Björn 🙂
This was such a beautiful piece, Bjorn! Reads very lyrically…
Quite the mystery here. ..like a flute, like death. ..an interesting woman indeed!
Beautiful poem!
She ‘unfolded, bloomed and I fell asleep’ ….
You had me at the mention of summer, but then came these wonderful lines:
Her hands were doors to other doors
a dream
for something more.
I think this is one of my favorites of yours.
a lovely poem, in agreement with the line (her hands were doors to other doors) very nice….beautiful in reality or in dream…bkm
I must have snored
cause when I woke, with just her scent
pressed like flowers in a book.
A scent can overpower the sub-conscious to lead one towards deep sleep. Very true Bjorn!
Hank
kaykuala
I must have snored
cause when I woke, with just her scent
pressed like flowers in a book.
A scent can overpower the sub-conscious to lead one towards deep sleep. Very true Bjorn!
Hank
I loved this… especially the opening stanza… especially this:
Her hands were doors to other doors
a dream
for something more.
That is so dope! The anticipatory, tantalizing tone flowing through this poem… brilliant work.
romantic
I’m smiling here at the end…..the scent, the tresses, it could have all been but a dream….
Very nice. I like the air of mystery.
Very, very tender…..superb!! 🙂
Cool!