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          Musings - Poetic Artistry - Flights of Fancy



Decorated Language
Adaline & Eden

​​​​​​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 both caught in a flurry of harsh words and yet under these clouds hanging low, his imminent approach pressing in,  I sensed the unfolding of a truth long kept silent.


Steadfast and looming his signature black hair, loose and wet, aligning with his foreign symmetry, this gentle giant took hold of my hand.


"You were raised on a promise."

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


​"A promise?" My voice suddenly was trembling.

He was still holding my hand contemplating our contrasting anatomy, when they descended, that melody of swans.

"A promise." The giant repeated bending to kiss my hand.  "A promise for Seraphina."​​​