Fireflies

FIREFLIES

The wind blew

as I held her hand;

scent of jasmine 

intermingling among juniper trees.

Branches swaying 

to the sound of flutes

played by the ancients and

felt within the stones;

vibrating into the heavens

and

speaking to the stars. 

The moon shone

as my fingers glided

through her hair;

golden rays of passion

lighting up the sky

as if fireflies.

The skies parted

as your lips touched mine:

no committment;

no promises

beyond the passion

of the moment.  

Copyright V. Rose 1999