First star on the velvet canvass⠀ morning glory⠀ greet the brightest dawn⠀ the initial chapter, lovely story⠀ pale warmth ⠀ ebbs from the angels’ choir⠀ blessing in brisk November⠀ mandated from on higher…⠀ . . —Copyright © Ernesto Mora@ThePOEMHOME All Rights Reserved.⠀⠀
This author has yet to write their bio.Meanwhile lets just say that we are proud Mora contributed a whooping 37 entries.
Entries by Mora
My heart has split upon the altar⠀ to no pain that took my breath away⠀ and the flow of time has spoken into my being⠀ words of silken water upon my crown⠀ split into three⠀ my light my joy and me…⠀ ⠀ —Copyright © Ernesto Mora@ThePOEMHOME All Rights Reserved.⠀
“Beneath your hooves, trampled roses cry the song of discontent and the fragile silk now bleeds onto your heartless cavort.” -E.Mora #Apathy
Fingers that trace the morning mists and in their wake imprint sonnets and words that sweeten the gardens nectar, are nails across my heart —Copyright © Ernesto Mora@ThePOEMHOME All Rights Reserved.
I love you as the morning ⠀ warmth kisses my cold prayers, ⠀ love like the night that faded ⠀ has left the sky bare ⠀ from the dark corners of my dreams, ⠀ I wake and you’re there ⠀ into the fields of your kisses, ⠀ petals sweet-scented ⠀ into the forever of your […]
The emergency broadcast alarm sounds off. I am disturbed, out of my sleep. But what’s more disturbing is what I now see on the screen. Could this be real? Is this some sort of hoax? I don’t know, but there’s something to the tone of the man’s voice, that is leaving me unsettled. I think […]
In this episode, we listen to Ernesto Mora’s reading of “I Will not Mourn You” *** I will not cry for you at all, there is within me a resolve so cold and dressed in apathy, so uncaring with the meager, such a black and forlorn room that I dwell in from moment to moment. […]
“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” ― Pablo Neruda, Love: Ten Poems
I hold onto your little hand and feel the stories untold a bond ancient and your eyes take hold be it into the night or into the vivid day I will always hold your little hand onto the blackest of frays. Copyright © Ernesto Mora@ThePOEMHOME All Rights Reserved.
When the evening would speak, in its tones so silent, into my listening heart the melody was so bitter, it made me close my eyes, such a sweet caress that lifted my head onto the altar where you’d wait so sullen, with those tears on your prayers, that pain on your bones the moon would […]