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YOU ARE MY LULLABY

As I Lay me down to sleep,
You are the music that plays in my head,
The swaying sound of wind chimes,
That plays above my bed.

I love to watch you as you sleep,
With a tender smile on your face.
I draw you closer to me,
As we fit perfectly,
With my arms wrapped around your waist.

I am overwhelmed by the love that I feel,
As you gently rock with me.
You are my 'Rock-A-Bye' baby,
As you caress me gently, I weep,
My emotions begin to run deep.

I give in to the song you sing,
Under the soft dim light.
I'm overcome by my love for you,
As I slowly fade into midnight.

I am aware that you're here with me,
And the love that we feel is strong and real.
As you whisper gently,
"I've been missing you all day baby,"
I succumb to the way I feel:
We surrender to our primal needs.

David Weeks (c) conqlion@hotmail.com
L.K."Rose" Ford (c) ROSEFORMS@aol.com
Island Breeze Production, 10/21/98 
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VIBING WITH THE RISING SUN 

Dawn...

Sun rising, fresh air,
The Morning dew 
Begins to fade
Take a deep breath
To fill my being
With the Breath Of Life
Coming from the most
Ancient of days

resistance is futile.
my eyes try not to open,
wanting desperately to hold on
to Yesterday's Pictures,
but Today would have none of that.
Today stretches me awake
with a Promise made
long ago.  It is up to me
to keep my side of the bargain.

Guided by My Ancient past
I begin another day's journey
Changing My present conditions
With every positive step that I take
Being the master of My faith
I decide how things are to be
Only I can make My Future
As bright as I want it to be

joy! sweet joy!
the Sun shakes the cobwebs loose
sweet light of day renews my soul
and whispers that there is nothing
that I cannot do.
a fresh start is mine for the asking;
mine for the taking.
come, day!  bring me your worst!
the Sun and I
will take you on!

Dusk...

Rose "BamBam" Cooper (c) cooper@acm.cse.msu.edu
David L. Weeks (c) conqlion@hotmail.com
MeMiceElfAnI Productions & Island Breeze Productions, 12/4/1998

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MIDNIGHT STORM

Tonight We Anticipate Good Loving
Clear Skies In The Forecast
Not A Cloud In Sight
But Body Heats Are Rising
There's A Storm Brewing 
On The Horizon

The Air Fills With Passion
Reserved For Kindred Souls
Similar Spirits
Identical Natures
And Its Occupied By Us
Tonight

As You And I Lay
In A Calm Quiet State
We Simmer
Under The Sexual Intentions
In Our Minds

The Rain Gently Falls
As We Taste The Sweetness 
Of Each Others Touch
The Gentleness Of Our Caress
We Satisfy Our Hunger
And Feed Our Intimate Desires

As We Make Love
In The Midst Of The Midnight Storm
Ecstasy Heightens
With Every Flash Of Lightening
Our Bodies Tremble
With Every Thunder Role

As The Wind Blows
We Drink From The Well 
Of Our Emotions
To Sustain Our Bodies
And Inspire Our Minds

The Sun Begins To Rise
The Morning Mist Glows With Our Smile
Overflowing With Our Touch
Brimming With Our LOVE
As We Hold On To The Memories
In The Midnight Storm.
                             
David L. Weeks (c) conqlion@hotmail.com
Carmelita M. Burgos (c) BoNitaLita@aol.com
Island Breeze Productions, 3/12/99 
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SO LONG THE ROAD

Like her mother, before her, she watches,
disdaining the wind, the sun, and  the waves.
This soul at twenty is already sixty so much she has been through.
She speaks of others, from Angola to Guyana, Soweto to Nicaragua, 
Brazil to India, Africa to America, and from Pretoria to Mozambique. 

Standing alone through the cold, it's her voice alone, 
with her song singing "It's me, It's me, It's me oh Lord," 
Standing in the need of prayer... 

Hiding her tears in the ramparts of time,
Waiting to rest in the heart of a  peaceful eventide.
She reads the pages of the daily news, Human life, 
Destitution and Success.
Tall trees are hidden in the valley, it is into this scenery we walk.
It is only our spring dreams that whisper sadly,
It seems there is a breeze looking for the green grass in the valley
It's her voice alone with her song, "It's me, It's me oh Lord," 
Standing in the need of prayer...

Unable to sleep, she paces back and forth. 
Separation hurts like "lifeless living"
She looked at the jeans he sent the kids 
He has forgotten that she too lives.
Cutting the fleeting flowers in her garden 
She is full of ancient heart songs.
Is there a dream to live on when years of 
fullness are just stolen promises?
Looking at the tall trees, it's her voice alone singing,
"It's me, It's me, It's me, oh Lord,"
Standing in the need of prayer... 

L.K."Rose" Ford (c) ROSEFORMS@aol.com
Padmore Agbemabiese (c) agbemabiese.1@osu.edu