Prompted by Randy Baker
The night came on like velvet
The fireplace was well lit
And I held you oh so tight
The night was like a whisper
Until this instant I missed her
But everything now was alright
Love’s a wild serenade, yeah
The silence soon a cascade, yeah
Far more now than lust at first sight
The realest thing is ethereal
Enigma or not, immaterial
The meaning of life is delight
About the Creator
Paul Levinson
Novels The Silk Code & The Plot To Save Socrates; LPs Twice Upon A Rhyme & Welcome Up; nonfiction The Soft Edge & Digital McLuhan, translated into 15 languages. Best-known short story: The Chronology Protection Case; Prof, Fordham Univ.
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More stories from Paul Levinson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Hall of mirrors
Things used to matter, before all the noise. And at that time when things still had meaning, there had been dreaming too, when dreams still mattered. And the brightest dream from those times was full of mountains and seas and smiles and the types of passion that absorbs you the way a dog is absorbed by witnessing something for the first time: with absolute presence, and awe.
By Giulia Viti6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
I read this like a song almost. I think the "yeah"'s at the end of the two of the lines lent themselves to this impression. I liked it- felt upbeat.
I got the sense of a bit of tipsyness and lightheaded fun and games in this one. I like the bit of crazy to the tone.
Very evocative I sensed a fireplace in this when I read it.
a beautifully written and evocative piece of writing