Celtic Poetry

The Charm Weaver

Charm… flutters of your mind - trickles of hope left upon your skin… leaving your nipples hardened.

A light appesingly produced from nowhere - warmth and security where none had dwelt.

- Fear, comfort, deception and beauty-

Like whirlwinds escaping into your mind, alluring you to me…

Dark I am yet lovely; on the threshold of forgotten passions - venturing still to find my life mate.

My eyes… deep with the haze of passion; a passion that captures the blade which is the moons edge.

-Quick birds in circled flight-

A rarity, contrast between conscious and dream; suggestive thoughts that amaze and cause wonder.

The swirling of your heart; the dreams and depths nourished by the hopeful unknown.

-Until forever I will intrigue you-

I am a harp playing upon your senses while the stars sing together.

My notes are the wind thereof brushing upon your cheek and promising you kisses…

My reflection is fleeting - a magical spark.

-Who has the wisdom to count the clouds-?

01-28-01