Magic

In the wistful rumble of disgruntled wind,

And in the squall of the home-bound thrush,

In the hush of the new morning's wake 

And in the music of your cheeks at first blush,

In the heady scent of jasmine wafting,

In the earthen aroma of rain in the air,

In the hazel smell of your piercing eyes

And the amorous delight of each crease in your hair,

In the symphony of light that explodes on your face,

In the cracks of your lips quenched with a kiss,

In the poetry of each breath that you take,

In the waver of a smile that might be remiss,

There is magic, there is love;

There is hope, there is healing.

And in my bloody heart

An indestructible feeling.

Reviews

[sakshi arora]

this poem is so romantic it would be a gift to whom this would be dedicated

[Rachelle]

A lovely symphony of words woven and built to the crescendo of the waking of a day.

[Aethereal]

This is a beautiful love poem about all those little things within our environment that touch our emotions so as to bring them to a crescendo like a great wave washing over the shore. I enjoyed all those descriptive rhymes. Magic is found within the Thing in Itself who feels the reality of itself most of all.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this poem is magic...

i feel the healing in here--how a day greets us...and how we meet it with new hope every day...even with the wistful rumble of disgruntled wind..there is a hush...and it is a happy pause in sound...

[Abdul Aziz]

Thank you very much for reviewing this poem, Jacob. Indeed there's magic in how the day greets us!