For You...

Picture. A light pastel sky at eventide. The
summery evening sun slipped gently into the
horizon.

Picture. A honey’d wheat field, ripened for
the ensuing harvest, an evening the tiny
creatures hurry to change location, showing
their offspring the scope of a wider world.

Picture. Birds soaring in the darkening sky above,
coming down to nests in the lush
trees.

Picture. The silence save for a scurrying
field mouse and early owl, a kestrel waiting
for movement different from the gentle
breeze bending stalks of wheat which dance
and sway in a united orgasm of natures
simple delight. The silence is deafening,
peaceful, only the voices of the mistral are
heard in whispers that float to infinity on
the departing breeze.

There is magic in this land; an inherent
peacefulness, tranquil to a point beyond
reason. It is a cataclysmic dream lost on all
but those who see, become part, gel into
the atmosphere.

Painted flowers adorn populated hedgerows,
grand séance, frequenting every bough and
leaf parer with the sheer beauty of
familiarity intoxicates every sinew of life in
nature’s haven;

Picture. Two people. Him. She. Hands close
together, fingers entwined in an
affectionating tendresse even the good lord
had not invented; the togetherness coursing
through their veins, the bodies are one;

She smiles. Turns her head to face him. He
is already facing her, a moment of knowing
the other. An unspoken language of love
igniting a colossus of oxygenated passion.
Eyes meet. No words uttered, none needed
as they wrap the arms around the other,
bringing faces closer, soft breath dances on
each’s cheek which fires the glowful ember
to flame in their eyes.

Lips touch in an explosion of fantasy
authors fail to describe in the many forms of
novel. Awash the tingling of tongues that
meet in such an unwritten yet inherent
avarice. This is the truth where souls join
completely and totally as one, purloining
every last breath on the cusp of death,
unaware of sprawling painted pictures at
eventide. Perfection...

They slip into a pooled amalgamation of
love, no longer two bodies, but two souls
fused in a complicit union, a reality far
beyond fantasy, a fantasy extolled by
reality, beyond reason, une sort remplir.

This is not, fiction...

The culminating bodies. Joined together in
mighty throes of lovemaking far beyond the
reaches of universal plans...

Twin souls that have left the Earth and love
in passion in other aeons. Conclusion is
always as in songs of love. For the fires in
this abundant garden where only God and
man walk together. And may their offspring
frequent this heavenly avenue throughout
time.

The two. You and I modelled in a picture of
happiness in its purest form, idyllic, my love
we, are one...

Picture. A pastel blue sky on eventide. Two
people now melded in the absolute
assurance of the other. One is strong while
the other has strength. One has strength
because the other is strong and in every
lifetime they will be the same. But different.

These souls have always found their way to
be together. Fate in its finest perfection of
destiny.

An eventide watercolour that fades slightly
within but fed by you and coloured with love
in its absolute paramore. They cannot, will
not, are not, parted by generation, each life
has its story, their stories always coincide,
coming together between heaven and the
earth, across the vastness of the universe.

The love they share is one love that cannot
be without the other. The same as it was
yesterday. The same as it will be tomorrow
until time immemorial, les parfait société...

When I said I would love you forever, I
meant forever. This is it. When your eyes
met mine when we first met (in this
timescale) was when our hearts beat in
unison. This has been, is, and shall be, our
story. One picture. One life. One heart. One
soul. One love...

Moi aimeront vous à jamais

© tcmoon 2010