A sonnet, of sorts....

~*~Tryst~*~

Where white roses climb out of the night
where comets strew new scarves of slow brave lace
when fresh stars dangle phials of perfumed truth
and slippered moths are free with their strange notes
I'll stray out of the blue paths of the day
and wend my way to where your lips unlock
and catch each pearl and opal that drops forth
into the hungry funnel of my soul
dissolving to a frenzied whispering juice
spiraling in precious upward mists
into the waiting open robes of dusk
until enthralled, we are both drowned
once and for all time, my Beloved
in caves of melted velvet.