by Ana L. Palles

I’ve heard them
Speak of love
In bright verdant places
Where laughter reigns
And looks are exchanged
Over glasses of dusky wine
And playful coquetry
A light touch
Half remembered
Ever changing wisps of clouds
Refusing shelter
In memory’s vault

Yet in dark quiet places
As I sit and stir the hearth fire
Wrapped in the smell
Of wood smoke
The flickering candlelight
Invites enchantment
And allows
My knowing heart
To travel back
To stormy days
When fire coursed
Through smoky gazes
And shared embrace
Of open heart

Sweet memory
Of tasted lips
Still fresh
Upon the frozen years
And comfort
Of familiar hearts
Met once before
Along a wooded path
Woven together
By fairy sprites
And elfin magic
That too long waited
The weary travelers
Finding shelter
And a welcome hand
Outstretched
To join in stirring
By the hearth fire

The glowing embers popping
Finding release
To dance in the dark
A whispered touch
Of hearts alone
Then essence joined
The warmth reminders
Of fluid time
As deeper and deeper
The story unfolds
Until no longer
Is there need for words
Silent knowing
Of ancient eyes

The heart imprinted
With its consort being
Knows well the secrets
And smiles
That darkness cloaks
And protects
A breath
Of gentle melody
Invites the wounded hearts
And savour the warmth
And joyful celebration
In wild abandon
The hearth fire dances
A gift of words unsaid