It was... (Time is a Feeling) by Cheryl Ann Darr & Halkios

I saw you dancing
in the street,
you were happy
to see me;
I was just playing
with my hat,
a jongleur,
a fool

I eyed you closely,
a smile
on my face;
seems this man
was breaking
all the rules

"Rules, I can't obey",
her beauty
made the Time
for a while,
“you take my breath away"

She smiles
with hands
on hips,
head cocked
to the side,
leaning closely
"let's play", she sighs

"Let's play together,
you and me"
he lend his hand
taking hers,
smoothly kissed
"Madame, avec plaisir"

"Time is a feeling,
not a dimension"
I loved you
from the moment
I saw in your eyes,
the love's reflection

She moved closer,
a distant memory
from her past

into formation,
they began to dance,
as though forever
was possible at last

He stopped turn
and felt
a vibrant breeze;
it was her scent
that penetrated
his skin

A haunting melody
began to play,
one from an era
so long ago

Only heard
by the couple
on a lonely street
beneath the moonlight
all aglow

and it was...

...then the memories fled fast;
they knew their dance broke the Time
and called once more,
their forgotten Love

I am jongleur, since the begging of Time,
waiting aching for the Love of time...
now your back into my arms;
Time will never beat our Hearts

Fragmented moonlight filtered,
down upon lovers that defied time
As they danced entwined in rapture,
in love so sublime
The stars flickered,
the Moon was erased;

the bright light that came from their hearts;
gave light to the night,
their love whispered,
as they flew together as one

"Time is a feeling, not a dimension"
"it was Time for Love's Reflection"


It was... (Time is a Feeling)


© Copyright by Cheryl Ann Darr aka Lady ~M ~ & Halkios



(Pleace click here to see the Halkoem1 of It Was (Time is a Feeling), called It Was)

1video poems by Halkios (see: The Halkoems ©)

Copyright  © 5764  / 2004. All Rights reserved to the concepts, writings, poetry, photography and video art by Halkios. All thoughts sealed long ago in a contract with the universe. No recreation of these scrolls, in any shape or means of force, is tolerable without articulate consent of the intrepid architect.