Monday, November 25, 2013


The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton

I remember 
the shivering branches
at dusk

as you moved me with your quiet song,
my leaves whispering autumn into your hands.

There was time for soft summer shade then -
surrendered arms found our roots,
entangled under a secretive moon as stars fell, 
surrounding us with dying light's final rapture.

Glistening with immortal moments,
we sought the river's surge within each other's eyes.

With your lips curled sensuously,
you now breathe reminiscences upon my skin
to watch my eyelids flutter in shuddered delight -
you trace my shadow's periphery,
moving ever closer to the edges of fragile grace
as I offer subtle moans
to encourage your exploration of dreams.

Your silken touch inspires me to radiate within your smile,
filled with secret knowledge -
I am limpid pools of splendor,
clay molded into a sculpture of your kinetic design,
fired within your hands.

I murmur slowly and reach for you,
pulling you into this ecstatic embrace
that gives us sudden flight
into an embered sky.