Blue eyes, clear as the summer sun falling on placid waters shining, gently playing with the breezes that tease. Laughter fills, the waters brighten, joy backlights the blue, dazzling in its intensity I am lost. I drown. Only to arise once more, intoxicated wanting more. When the sun clouds over and the joy is gone, I wish to weep for the loss of the light. When his eyes rain like summer tears, my heart breaks, for I want only to see him smile, once more.
Well, and truly, I am snared, lost in the endless depths behind the blue. The integrity, the honesty the true and noble heart that beats beneath his breast. I see it all, hidden beneath a warm blue gaze. Perhaps like doth turn to love, yet time is my enemy. I lose myself in the depths, but in secret; in silence.
For no worse pain could be endured than to know I care in vain; better to love in silence from afar, to hear laughter and smile knowing I am lost just the same.
Your eyes alight with some inner glow always joyful warm with compassion yet tinged with the innocence of a child.
Yet you are infinitely kind. Tender-hearted to a fault gentle with the courage of a lion hidden deep inside.
Yet shy; you chain your heart and spirit, afraid of losing either if they fly or roam too far. Yet you hold few secrets open, honest and true to yourself.
Inside lies a quiet strength a deep river running whose calm surface belies swift currents that can be treacherous.
You lift me up: I draw strength from your steadfastness, and your honest nature. I am comforted by your easy grin by the ready laugh that makes my heart smile.
You complete my soul.
Ebon pools suck me under drowning in a tidepool of black uncaring I fling myself willingly into the abyss.
You haunt me, taunt me your visage appearing behind my closed lids even my rest blessed respite becomes torment again and again your smile follows me into the darkness.
Who are you to torment me so? What are you to me, that you may carve your image upon my heart, my mind, my soul?
Hair, as soft as velvet ebony strands that call my fingers like a magnet. Treacherous hands, that long to tangle themselves in those silken skiens. Treacherous lips, that long for the soft brush of your lips. Treacherous heart, that longs for your love.
By Allegra
Deep Thoughts Once upon a time, (as fairy tales go) there was a land where dreams were made and lost, trusts made and as precious as the friendships gave (which we all know to be more precious than silver and gold) sharing with each the good times, and helping each other through the bad... This was the land of Deep Thoughts. More than a chat room, it was a home, and its members, a family of sorts all from different walks of life, (as with any good castle of dreams) but as it was, it fell to strife; the gods who ruled above us were cruel, and the castle died...as did some of the family... some simply disappeared...but others, struggled to hold the dream, the fragile soap-bubble of what was.... From place to place, the survivors ran, hoping to recapture what once was, rebuild the castle make it better than it had ever been. Like refugees from a distant shore, they plunged in the wide world of the web and found a place... virtually unknown then, and claimed a spot, known as the Bleachers, and made it a new home...where new dreams could grow and old ones become cherished. Now, added to the original pioneers, one by one, more people came to find the dream, and call it home, and added to the melting pot of wishes and resounding ambition, enriching the riches of those already founding the new and glorious world. New friends made, new stories made and shared, new hardships to be passed on amongst the growing group, as we traverse along the merry pathways of life. Now this is where our saga ends, faithful journeymen (and women) for the rest is still being written...and will be recorded by hands other than mine own. May the latter followers reap from what has been sown, may the dream grow rich and strong under those who come behind. For here is where the tale of DTer's (too numerous to name, alas!) draws to a close. To all who came before, and those who will follow, remember but one thing....keep the dream alive!! Keep the dream alive!! By Allegra, in honor of those who call themselves, the DT'ers....=)
Love Is Love is to hold and to care Love is to protect her from those who would dare Love is to belong and be in one's heart Love is to stop others from tearing you apart Love is romantic, love is insane Love is to block out anything evil, or profane Love is a feeling that lurks in your chest... Love is seeing that you have been blessed. Written by Diablo
The Great Deep Hole There comes a time in everyone's life, And it will one day happen to you, A day just like any other, as plain as possibly be When you'll stumble across a great deep hole from which you'll know not what to expect.... So you'll move cautiously, and watch your step... And not matter where you are, you'll always fall in You see, this pit has a very significant name to everyone The pit is "Love"... And you've just fallen in....
By Diablo
A Place of Magic Dancing on the winds of time Bright shining as the sun Flying, soaring Sparkling hues The gossamer threads of magic. Strangely liquid syllables Called forth from the books Of magic chant Deftly swirling Curling Playfully moving Forming matter To it's intended purpose. To the shelves, One might glance To see the wonders scattered Like lost toys left behind. In a beaker, softly glowing Blue liquid brooding under glass. What spell could it invoke? Mysteries beyond mysteries Are held within its glass walls. Magic. The rarest of forms The oldest of songs Flow sweetly from the Tounges of the wise To gather the forces of the universe Place them under your command. The power rages Contained by the wizard's Strength Able to level a mountain top Or sooth the hurts of a Child. Magic. Flowing forces From the earth itself From sky, water, Fiery wastelands Contained in the heart of The mage. For good or evil Heal or hurt The forces obey their master No matter of the intent. But back once more To the wizard's lair. Standing lonesome In the dark corner A wizened claw grasps firmly The globe of clearest crystal; Shedding it's own unearthly Light Softly ebbing and flaring - Alive. In the pale cold light, The grain of wood Shines richly Deeply Holding no secrets of its own Save the mystery of the Owner's hand. What wonders has it seen? What magic, wond'rous deeds Has it performed, or Overseen The undertaking of Held in the thralling caress Of the master. Mute, it tells no tales; Only silently promising The future Of wonders yet to come. Magic. Magic, the primeval force That moves us all in turn. Magic, found in the wonders Of the universe, Or the laughter of a child. Magic, found in an old man's Shop, Or the wink of a young girl's eye. Magic . . . The breath of our beings. . . The very life of our souls. By Allegra
The Old Man A merry twinkle fills the old man's eyes. "A trick?" he asks, peering intently, reading my soul as he pulls from the sleeve of his robes a slender white rod. Noting the skeptical cast of my face he grins, a child's grin, and the wand begins to glow with a soft golden light all it's own. My jaw betrays my adult's belief as he swirls the wand, bending light calling forth images of Pegasai, in flight as thunder bolts tear back the starry cutain of night as I behold. Astonished, I think of our chance meeting bumping into the passersby he was, with a humble, "Pardon me", or "Excuse me, sir," with that gentle smile and merry light reflecting from his soul. His clothing, quite outlandish blue robes, embroidered with stars but the pinnacle, truth be told was the hat; pointing the way to heaven, as it were. Yet on this starry night, miracles were held, as the light from the slender staff lit his face; no longer the kindly old fool, a master of concentration had taken his place. His features, hardened into ones that'd seen much saddness and death. His beard, and long white hair whipped wildly in the ever-increasing wind like the charging standard of the army, outnumber'd, fighting to defend it's homeland. Then, as suddenly as it began the glow began to fade; the thunderbolts cease, and the peagasai fade; until all was left in the eyes of the old man. Smiling, he dropped a wink, as he turned away and said, "Now, tell me true; believe you what was seen with the eyes of the mind, or the eyes of the heart?" His deep blue eyes sparkled, as he regarded me thoughtfully. When I looked away to consider this, I heard not his departure; yet when I looked up, he had vanished, far from sight. Yet when I stepped forward, my eye was caught; A feather, as white as snow lay upon the grass. It's shining iridecense belied it to be any ordinary feather, with left me, bemused, to think, "Indeed, with eyes of soul, for all these things others may never see." I never forgot the old man who imparted such a lesson upon me that I never forgot the truth of what he said. Never judge appearances, as looks may decieve; instead, look past the face to the heart of the matter; Look to see the soul, beneath. By Allegra
Confessions of a Music Box Dancer Twisting, turning spinning, whirling as silver chimes call sweetly me forth from dreary sleep. Floating, I dance through sparkling mists a myriad of hues drifting slowly down glittering as I dance to the sweet music. Floating, I dance along the fragile walls of my home my prison not daring too close as their destruction means my death. For who does not abhor the death of beauty? While my life brings joy I am content Prisoner by unseen creators on a whim to bring smiles to others I dance. Turning, whirling, through the glitter amid the silvery notes I twirl on, fixed motion repetitive never-ending. Am I happy? may you ask: As happy as one may be with such a fixed course in life. For me, I am immortal as the most fragile heirlooms; yet, time means little to me. For me, all there is my world, is the dance. The swirling motes of color surrounding me, and the tinkling music That is my love. This is my life. By Allegra
Rahvehn's Way
As fortold by a Rhavehn, I sit back, easing into my soft chair, to hear a story of unrequited love. "Quite unremarkable," you might say, as stories are told of such each and every day. Yet, this story was different. For, instead of the lad or maid pining away to nothing for the lack of love, both characters go on. Living their lives out as they were meant to be, and going on to better things. Ah! But what a tale the Rhavehn tells. A tale of mysterious missives and even more curious replies. A game, a puzzle, a mystery to be solved! Yet, the addiction to the game waned when our hero found the answer. Yet, while never spoken of, the two seemed to deepen their friendship, and who's to say it's not for the best? Now, can you look a body square in the eye and say you'd do any better? For, to hear the Rhavehn tell it, things aren't finished here. The friendship will go on. And really, isn't that the moral of the story? That true love never dies. Especially when it's of the friendship kind. By Allegra Back to the main poetry page
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