The colour sudden of many a discarded transient rush, my returning days of ending evenings mend, was the disappearing to sounds of reappear in a restful love, my city humming before to long, her city disappearing along our removing trail, a rising tangerine soar of towers. Not to realise a reeling discard, a forever, my eternal watch; safely i had held of them regretful blurry goodbyes, nights amendment to cusp a latch, my love in all the southern bay of captured stars.
Many a fulsome place last, a heart raced, the crowding silver of our violas played. The hour’s chased by flirtatious chatter and neon lit good-vibes; nights at bay grew of length and never had i of them many, twofold strawberry kisses on latching our neon sky, tangerine a kiss goodbye.
2019 Adam Blewett ©
The memories caressed her gentle beautiful way, teasingly buxom I had the magic of recalling well, helpless beyond these words of ambition, the hour had wandered, remaining stolid, I had compelled in remorse a loving girl, passionate for a time in remind of our teens. This savour of fluidity had struck a longing for the other between years, remaining in a cautious tremble, my ambition of her lady like way, quelled deep with desire.
Our need for the tutorial in family life had exposed, a satisfy for small-talk. My thoughts tripped in a breathless banter, a intellectual surround of shadows pacing in moonlit walks, the fire and ice. Classical with a remain for the guilty catch of them lusting eyes, my fondness for this contrast in fretful soft atone; Mondays for me are the solace for a evenings door.
The sultry mood remained, flirtatious at bye, my ahold, for good to see you again was sparring at the injustice, so times catch was of no delay. Salient velvet a sensual taste of a refining emotion, the longing had remained, for this night of chill, warmed a distant heart of glow.
2018 Adam Blewett ©
Aftermath from my free falling, came as a previous, night and day passing with an abandoned air of painfully stale recoil, the heavens rebound clouded my judgement; fasting a pure free fall, my reflex to secure the dismantling crate, as i become aware of the interjection to passing in out bound flight, the curling winds, harbouring nil flight time.
Altitude provided difficulties with compression, her remarks were devastatingly accurate, although through the costly hail of corkage; shallow breaths of a distraught witness was able to refrain from disarray, in longing to time in a toss of parachute, in harms bending farce.
The mote almost depleted to willows end, with sounds of expired merriment as the cabin remained afloat, and strings belongs or telling, in a mossy slope, the hook i give with shards of a Venus remind. A frayed hessian, peeling the remainder, of what was left in suit. I gathered her regarding way; knowing her love for sailing skies, i am grounded, rounding off what should go untold “wait by my side divide our ages exuberance, a gifted race shall you remain with all but nothing”
2018 Adam Blewett ©
The sun braided through a musty scent as the heavy curtain reduced the abandon of what was once significant, my regretful past, a unlatching to the beauty of remorse. Still loaded a hold, broke the air with flame, the echo of dried timber crackled as it brought in a renewed warmth to what had fallen in a dormant stage of respite. The fire light took to claim a long reminder to a days chastened glow of embers in mend, a sound rotund of feigning ash filled the air. The night of belonging, cloaked in happiness, throughout the hall a spread of fondness, placing a intrepid finger to catch both a unexplained reminder of pain and gratifying latch, to rekindle the swollen space between you and I. A fractured night lay bare translucent in repair.
2018 Adam Blewett ©
Each time the bell rang, a half the amount of calcium had dislodged; in the spire, I was to remember the very reason, my life was on hold. Not relating to her striking way, a induced pulse raced with exhaustion, there was a ever present guardian upon her look. The need to resolve this intemperate bind, across the incline a vehement but optical shoulder to the country I love. Placed with chance a dark recorded path, to my lustful eyes in wait. Filling this need to escape the reference of apprehension, the chimes receded and dusk became my friend, for their unclaimed treasure, an artifact, had displace in my calcified adaptation of inner sleuth.
The valuable artifact managed with the correct light, displayed more beauty, then a chanced blue diamond. My breathing had resolved to a affable level, and the only obstruction now came in the form of the bounty hunter. A menacing abductor of the treasures rare in sort, a intoxicating rarity of twice her soul, a breath of energy was of my claim. From the buoyant over cast of a sunset, to catch of a cradled love. The ask was a preamble for a united soul, where a melting capture of a faceless repair was in my-heart.
2018 Adam Blewett ©
This place mentioned, over a indulgence as it seamed granted, the table had quietened and should it be said, the years, had compelled an uncertainty between, those whys were not so dramatically recognized as labelling me debunk, more adjunct to this just gets better. That 702 we had caught so many times, lofted before cheesecake pies arrived, this time I had added the chance of meeting with first-class; the business end of a adjunct, this only guess, I had bought off all of them, with the cost of a one-way ticket, as soon as throwing in a crate of Moet Champagne.
The effort not to tie up with fuss, a plan for spoonerism, showing haste we remain with many, having thirst for a black coffee. Maple lips we did horde with a screening of leaving fall, the chatter of finery, the mention of those fares, and as this truce subsided, the compelling arrival to a fourth floor; those arresting eyes, had come, unusually before a chanced second recount of we are doing fine. Contemplating to readdress this situation, the steward did arrive without complaint, a return of double-shot lattes.
The velvet aroma was not of answers; and should the curtains be withdrawn early this evening, a hope of recoil, plain and majestic maple lips, for hour’s and fading light, the table top flickered with my new found, and I had landed this gifting evening, with cheesecake latte and black coffee.
2018 Adam Blewett ©
There was no suprising in her honest way, for me to draw those lovable eyes of old, I had to put in the least plausible outcome, for my well had run dry, not a smile wry. So it was tulips no rose petals, and my love for her incurable words. What I divulge to you, you cannot tell a soul, the wilter of our dreams. Before day’s start my lady, I would stop to catch her exquisite words, and there was always that triangle a symbol from her heart. I have not exclaimed this to reason, and my memories remain fond. For the next two weeks, I should return to collect in more and more flowers, and in each day I had found her, bayonets flourish of bountiful rose petals. Then on the return home there was emptiness in my heart, no trace, only the Ghost Gum that shadowed in her beauty. The nights twist came and went, for weeks, I had return along the same path to have my collect of her petal’s. Then as all to soon she begone, my day never the same, they remain next to me in a timeless collection, and as I dust over these dried flowers, I share with you this beauty of her, that she would have me reach of sight, hold my hands, and cup those lids her flowering eyes.
2018 Adam Blewett ©
I had owed him, the coffers were bare, Pandora’s heart bled for my appearance on those day’s. Tonight was no different, should she claim my presents, from our black nights goodbye’s. Most of her lust for the despised had the wealth to never try twice.
It was my romance through the golden fog light’s of Luxembourg, my tailor mades harsh on the moonlit neon lights. I had packed with the instructions that he only give day’s for acceptance, after this, if the load had not being, reduced. The monies replaced I wouldn’t escape the gun.
She had meant that I find her scatty in the evening. The second glass into the fading light, at a glance I noticed the quiver, not at all present after she greeted my welcomed gift of another bottle of Clos Montblanc. Asking for assistance with a blade, I had almost replied, but I smile fragile replacing my hand on the empty glass, and pour another.
Neither of us knew to criticize the lack of ambience, and I told Pandora to lookout for herself.
My instructions of this endgame needed restoring, so I read them back, in the neon bright night. To be told never to embrace the thoughts of escape. This was a shut down, I knew exactly the ending. And told her that she need not worry. So can I order service, and with those exact word’s, I place my order and tipped the fellow in blue.
Pandora played my heart, to the point of beatitude, and I gave in. All bets off only her song played this evening, and I was her audience of one.
Now the wrong needed a fix and her misty eyes need assurance, that I could carry out the task.
He the one with no shame told me I was to his debt, this I could fathom for the instructions were meet. His fury was my get out for her energy had stayed in my eyes so I opened the box, of goodbye’s, with Luxembourg blades. And the night of fires.
2017. Adam Blewett ©
Enveloped what hope had not installed, they waited to have you at seasons reach. Effortless our err brewed with formality, love moved in her starry eyes, the remainder to his fearsome call. The retorted look to a compunction, had my notes being well. Reservations of round a last farewell, aloof to my ardent smile, you fail to sell. Keep no hidden love from our past for we shall soon call hour’s a memory, in another strong hold to altitude. Deep in a penultimate reunion, skipping the fall, has my love, in so a shoulder to stay. The starry night burdens only a lost heart.
2018 Adam Blewett ©
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