Time in a Bottle

Time in a Bottle

By J. Lynne Moore

Stands an empty cup,
On the table, bare.
Greedy, you drank it up,
Now you blindly stare,

No need to fret, darling…
Not only will I spare a dime;
A final gift to you I bring,
The bottle filled with time.

Moments precious, held within,
Will quench your ample thirst.
Contrary to your final sin,
You’ve already done the worst.

No need to give praise,
For a gift given without strings.
In a toast my glass I raise,
For hope eternal springs.

What time is left now?
Only the bottle knows;
But this my darling I vow,
Your cheeks shall return to rose.

Our Way

Our Way

By J. Lynne Moore

Love, gentle, is not our way…
Passions, volcanic, upon us play.

Flippant desires, humbled lust;
Sheepish kisses fall to dust.

Only the tides rival our soul;
Spinning cyclones out of control.

Bow to our feverish rapture;
Jealous, our love to capture.

Weep those who cannot see,
The adoration betwixt you and me.

Beyond what, the universe can convey,
Love, gentle, is not our way…

River Song

By J. Lynne Moore

‘Tis the river’s song
that leads me nigh;
Through the meadows low,
under the open sky.

A wee dainty tune;
nature’s holy hymn.
Sung on a whisper,
through the shadows dim.

I stroll through the grass,
laden with dew.
My soul joins the chorus;
my heart beats anew.

The jewels in the heavens,
sparkle with delight.
Keeping perfect time,
with the opera’s flight.

By the shore, I now sit,
my toes are not shy,
And find their way gladly,
to the water…I sigh.

Just a moment of bliss;
in a life lived long.
A moment to remember,
singing the river song.