Face Value!

Remember glistening off the coast of marvelous…
Giving away best intentions to any passerby?
da Vinci captured your mystery for all to see
In the eye of his Beholder, was beauty for his travesty.
You are the dreaming vagabonds over hills to mountains free!
A distributor of wavelength symphony, harmonic energy!
Your voice of laughter hums the drums too sympathetic quietly.
Oh dear smile
Won’t you laugh for your own warmths company?
Don’t abandon yourself over some things not meant to be.
Think of all their hard work, yet the Buzz of the honey bees
There is nothing more sweeter than “the forest for the trees”!
Smile!
Curl each end of your making
Share with the world everyone’s priceless virtue,
Gleam your best defense for the taking,
Mona Lisa,
Leonardo knew The Secret of face value!
Myth*.
©Myth 2019 (all rights reserved)

A Vintage Bookstore In Berkeley

Soft and gentle, as surrender.
His words could have rocked an ocean to sleep.
I wanted to lay in his bed of roses, upon his sheets of poetry.
I wanted him!
Thousands of butterflies seemed to have fluttered my thoughts!
The floor beneath me disappeared, and left me floating on air.
My fingers reached for my lips
As he spoke of picking peaches off their vines
 And sipping Summers heat!
I could hear afterthoughts beckoning me to kick off my heels
And toss them to the understanding god’s of love!
 I wanted to feel the heat of the moment from his every breath!
And then there were the stairs
To the left of me.
Where I could write myself into his story.
I sat down on the fifth stair, longing for his invitation and sensual cravings!
Each word nibbled at the lace of my womanhood, ever so lightly
Untying my will to hang on!
Oh why was he making me wait!?
Need was calling him from the stairs.
His masculine approach was reaching for my last remaining lace!
We could have made love there…on those stairs
In the moments of great height’s of making love!
But he could never be mine.
His words belonged on the pages in a book that I was reading
In a vintage bookstore in Berkeley.
Soft and gentle, as surrender
He will forever be rocking an ocean to sleep,
Without me in his bed of roses, without me upon his sheets of poetry.
Never shall always be
To never roll on his waves, now gone to sleep.
Myth*.
©Myth2019 (all rights reserved)

Like A Sweet Fine Wine!

Me epistles, My poems
Have been to each of you my dear heartwarming friends, and acquaintances of my life. I am so beautifully blessed to have the most Gorgeous, Courageous, Influential movers and shakers in my circle of life!
To each of you,
You have been the bubbly surprises that fill my heart with love!
 Handsome,  Beautiful
Mind and Soul
Whom hold understanding and Riches of heart in highest regard.
Honesty, Nobilities
Your greatest attributes, and my Tender Mercies…
And your hugs and smiles conquer my vulnerabilities and sensitivity.
My soul shines remnants of our friendships, an any given time…
When we laughed, cherished, and unwantingly cried.
Life at our feet, and together we carry our burdens long haul
Together, the softer, through it all!
My love for each of you grows ripe along Vivacious Vine
As together we grow older, gracefully, like a sweet fine wine!
And as the good Lord barricades our Holdings of Sage
Let us raise our glasses to the importance of Saving Grace… for wage!
Myth*.
©2013-2018 Myth (All rights reserved)