My life's in your hands
You believe what you will
choosing freedom and riches
Your hands not mine to wash

My life's in your hands
Born as servant, sold as slave
Gifted prisoner, unseen, unknown
My life not mine to choose

Stay With Me Tonight
by Michael R. Burch

Stay with me tonight;
be gentle with me as the leaves are gentle
falling to the earth.
And whisper, O my love,
how that every bright thing, though scattered afar,
retains yet its worth.

Stay with me tonight;
be as a petal long-awaited blooming in my hand.
Lift your face to mine
and touch me with your lips
till I feel the warm benevolence of your breath’s
heady fragrance like wine.

That which we had
when pale and waning as the dying moon at dawn,
outshone the sun.
And so lead me back tonight
through bright waterfalls of light
to where we shine as one.

Originally published by The Lyric. Keywords/Tags: love, stay, tonight, gentle, bright, touch, whisper, face, hands, lips, breath, wine, moon, sun, light, earth, leaves, petal, petals, bloom, blooming, waterfalls, shine, shining

I wake up to sweet, beautiful rain
I stick my head out the door and feel the coolness drip over my face
I stick my hands out and long for them to be washed by this water from heaven
Wash over me, rain
Wash over me, water
Wash me clean
I hear the voice of the Living Water
I have already made you clean
You are forgiven

When I ran into you,
Your face was cold, covered with a mask,
Yet your eyes were so warm and welcoming,
Sending me a thousand heartfelt greetings!

You were physically distanced from me,
Yet your heart, your love was running in my direction,
So close I could feel it!

Your hands were hidden under gloves,
Yet your soul was radiating on me with such warmth!

Hussein Dekmak

The Poet
by Michael R. Burch

He walks to the sink,
takes out his teeth,
rubs his gums.
He tries not to think.

In the mirror, on the mantle,
Time—the silver measure—
does not stare or blink,
but in a wrinkle flutters,
in a hand upon the brink
of a second, hovers.

Through a mousehole,
something scuttles
on restless incessant feet.
There is no link

between life and death
or from a fading past
to a more tenuous present
that a word uncovers
in the great wink.

The white foam lathers
at his thin pink
stretched neck
like a tightening noose.
He tries not to think.

Keywords/Tags: poet, time, clock, hands, life, death, past, present, thought, word, noose, wrinkle, wrinkles, sag, sagging

it illuminated all,
hid nothing
her first instinct:
close the blinds
and her eyes.
  
after a while
she opened the blinds.
her eyes followed suit,
squinting, adjusting,
taking in her surroundings.

the light shook hands
with the darkness
its touch healed,
helping her produce
light of her own.

stories are made for enchantment
our hearts are even meant
we hold hands
staring at each others eyes
and there's a spark
the hints of lies