Saturday, February 25, 2006


The sand is cooling,
sun has bid Adieu.
Like voyeurs
we lie on our blanket,
watching the night sky
dressing in diamond raiment.

The moon is quarter full;
winds have opened
the curtain of clouds.

Ah! The throne of Nut!
Egyptian Goddess
who swallows the Sun-God Ra
each dusk,
to give birth to Him
at eve`s end.

I feel your breath on my neck,
warming, caressing.
I open your eyes with a kiss,
traveling past the stars
into your soul,
marvelling at the wonder
it arouses.


Originally published 10/04/05 as "At The Beach".
Painting by J.A. Fitzgerald [1832-1906] "The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of"