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          Musings - Poetic Artistry - Flights of Fancy


I was waiting.
Waiting for the Angel voice.
Waiting for the timeless alibi.
Waiting for the reverberation from a giant's silent world.

We had come to the water's edge, the giant and I.  His forward facing eyes seemingly cast upon something beyond us both I swallowed, a little water, a little salt.

We were caught up in a flurry of harsh words, this giant and I and under clouds hanging low, I sensed a truth beginning to show.  His signature black hair, loose and wet, aligning with a foreign symmetry the fury of his wind pressed in on me with his imminent approach.


"You were raised on a promise."  He said his steadfast forward facing eyes looming above mine.

A long moment of sky passed between this giant and I.

"A promise?" My voice was trembling as tears gathered in my eyes.

A melody of swans floated above our lake.  Holding my hand he traced our contrasting anatomy.​  "  A promise." he repeated bending over to tenderly kiss a fallen tear. "A promise for Seraphina."​​


A Decorated Language
Adaline Dresden & Eden Clare