As From a Kiss		An Angel's Tale
Enjoy Life		Preface to A Truth: Relax, Breathe
A Truth		A Life Within
Preface to The Essence: With Each and Every Day		The Essence
One Dream... Changing a Lived Life Forever		A Thought... One Small Moment of Time

Note: (000, YYMMDD) = the approximate Yahoo Message Board entry number and date.
Spelling, punctuation, grammar, and line phrasing are as originally posted by the author.

Is not the want of touch, so true? Does the feel of skin make heat, so loved?

Through a portal of heart's galaxy, is an ever-reaching sear splitting the vastness, the spectrum implodes with such color, an unwilling sense of desire, as the kiss is felt to lips, so does the silk of love's flowing aura, caressing the inner-depth to soul.

Melt the wall, make it gold instead of rock, build from the liquid steeping all the while, into a stepping stone which resides along the balanced path of darkness and light, keeping the walk a true one from strength and height.

The kiss wields its desired wanting of wetness, all the emotion of succulence is felt at hand, each step onto the stone of love comes what may bare in portal of heart's galaxy, naked between the light of day, and then of shadow for night, one secret let loose to every given minute of sight, sixth sense of immortality, and nothing is purer than the path of truth, touching spirit along the stepping stone's avenue, before listing outward and away into the star's light of night.

Falling, ever falling, till the field of clouds pass, without a grasp, nothing to seek the hands round, fading farther to a minute being of pleasure.

Of lasting comfort to that of a kiss.

EnchantedWords (Black-winged Knight) © Copyright, 1998

An Angel’s Tale

Massive with darkened hair, from color as black, so deep and rich, moon’s incandescence can be seen.

Moving through forest, grace, beauty, and valor tightly strung through being, doesn’t show fierceness to heart.

Long tail and mane gives a surreal essence amongst this phantasm of darkness.

What rides atop the beast, is impressively large in its own way, dressed in pure black, blending with luster to steed.

The man—seemingly, carries a quintessence of such great power, a soul, can only be said, to harbor that of evil, so goodness he does, can emancipate his redemption.

Black-winged Knight, commonly heard, because he takes flight into night, fading—deep within the mist, or walking as any, to daylight’s time of hue, but not seen, nor felt.

Battles won of this spirit, show truth to being a Knight, wickedness through iniquities, is not his domain, but might of righteous healing, virtues for nature’s wonder of living, is given to many who wander, the boulevard of broken dreams.

Black-winged Knight, sitting on his steed of strength, both moving through inner forest, seeking same objective.

Night brought many defeats, as many saved souls. Tiredness creeps to heart, weariness has its toll.

A notice of far off bright lights, shadows of hills behind, stars that sleep with the constellations, seek their right to sight.

Black-winged Knight, and beauty he strides, give look from moon’s brilliance, to countryside and then city. He knowing the sadness and loss to hope, which breeds from every breath, grows heavy within cities daily strife.

He will not fall to such demise, his strength is relief for all hearts that harden, bound with hatred’s rope of life.

The steed gives movement, Black-winged Knight heads home, where peace prevails the hurt, pain succumbs to depth of darkness, healing is the night’s sleeping cover, so this angel can then again be made whole.

EnchantedWords (Black-winged Knight) © Copyright, 1998

Enjoy life, see within the trees, the sound of wind's music flows for your enjoyment, the touching from Nature's love, grace of living things being with spirit, a truth on what a Domain, the Great spirit, gives as a gift.

EnchantedWords (crowstouch) © Copyright, 1998

Relax, breathe some deep breaths, and as each inhale to exhale remove the negative ways to day and spirit. Allow your mind and soul to become as water to deep blue lake, smooth, calm, and no ripples of disturbance for your thought.

EnchantedWords © Copyright, 1998

As the day dwindles into a slow encompassing shadow to night, the depth of sight into that darkness, goes beyond black, farthest spectrum from knowledge, and keeps taking away all that is in existence for living.

There is one mention to an entity that resides in a realm the darkness cannot have to control, grasping for something, of which will not be seen, yet has a touch of silk, a gift for engulfing the heart, with nothing more than love.

The mind has taken the road, no stopping the inward travels of spirit, following the darkness and flowing as water, with moving, everything is beyond speed, outside looking in, the spirit staying calm, moves with ease.

A small bell chimes, an instant of rushed speed makes a stop, water's felt weight engulfs the spirit's vessel of travel, then explodes into billions of wet particles as light, the darkness subsides in to a low haze of blues and grays.

The touch is felt, near, and known power comes, another presence makes way for spirit's enlightened thought, giving an invocation of truth, unlike none other, unknown from past or present time, all of which is the moment, is the time.

The day comes easily, the window is open and slight breeze takes its course through kitchen's environment, a shadow follows the sun's path as well. Little Crow sets upon the chair, hands folded in her lap. Wiggling here and there on occasion, and welding more power of soul, than earth's life force through sun could ever bring about.

She awaits, a coming of the vision, touching each article with sight only, feels as does the skin with eyes, senses through hands as if reading a book, only never touches the pages, knowing a truth.

Little Crow, seeks the love and goodness that is needed to bring from a Great Spirit, which inhabits the darkness of blue an gray haze, so a message can come forth for all whom wish to listen, she does with mind and soul, so gently, so common sense, from her chair, and across the vast inner-realm, to each of the souls outside her world of truth.

How quaint...

That a child has the power, and sense, through vision of spirit, to be the only link of life, and then death.

The message?

When the earth moves in its cycle, the dark turns to light, at the very moment a cresting moon arises, listen for the whispers of a young spirit, of love guiding the heart, down the path as one would want, flowing as water, close the eyes and seek a gift which bears a truth...

Your existence is valued, an importance beyond your imagination, touch the world with making a difference, in only a small way.

Little Crow, stands and goes to her room. She has the vision, lays down on the bed, quietly begins to fade, becoming a nothing, leaving without never knowing why.

Until the moon rises, the very instant of time, it cresting the horizon, darkness is the way of night, and the touch to your soul, is the way of her spirit, a truth, a dream, and more power than one could ever imagine.

An explosion is seen inward of the heavens, gazillions of tiny water droplets begin to fall, spirits travel the darkness with unknown speed, dropping onto each and all who are looking, a message was just sent, giving the reason for an existence to living, beyond the dark path of night.

EnchantedWords © Copyright, 1998

One step through the door, into the garden, gives the mind an equal challenge for thought from eyes sight of delight, color is abounding all sense of feeling, a touch from this domain is equal to a dream's way of brought life to heaven.

Each petal flourishes with realism, each leaf seeks the wanted heartbeat, a stem creates what living inside, unmatched from the outside, spewing its creation with exquisite smelt fragrance.

All of what a rose is, stands alone in this covered sanctuary, far from the outside world of truth, living as should, without humanity and death.

A dream is what it is, when felt touching as silk to a rose's petal, enveloping all the soul's life for realism, message, love from an unknown imagination of sleep, it is real and comes so easily.

The outside world does not listen, nor sees the sanctuary of covenant for rose, such beauty has what it takes to go beyond the door, out into the wilderness of humanistic way, and not be seen.

Then and only then, will a rose be only a rose.

Will you live in the rose, or shall a rose in you?

EnchantedWords (Black-winged Knight) © Copyright, 1998

With each and every day to your life, the strife mingling with happiness, has not one wondered, what the darkness really makes believe?

Is the night from day's delight, so filled with its own goodness, there is a brilliance of light?

Wander this road, open the mind without closing a truth for richness, a belief, to how the night's darkness, shadow falling from a light of day, is all of the greatness, one only may need, if found the essence so given, so deeply, in these words...

EnchantedWords © Copyright, 1998

Swirling amongst the night, Darkness has come swiftly. The Myst is here quietly moving in and around, Not wanting anyone knowing why abound, The power of the Myst is becoming ever so strong, Each movement from darkness, Corner to dark corner is immense from feelings, which it seeks, Looking for what lurks in the deep darkened realm…

The darkness has the will of another, One of greatness, One of power to the Myst, One who seeks all truths from within the spirit, This being is near. As Myst moves closer growing tense with unease, Swirling more with strength, This essence has thoughts, Felt feelings from one whom is near, Oh so close to the wonders of a soul, Comes something wicked this way is not, Pulling back without making the touch, Then steps into the Myst. The power, Mighty is the soul as is the will of darkness, The being shall not conflict with goodness, For it knows of the light, A Divine light of true strength, The essence serves this light as a carrier of truth.

With a shadow blending into the night, The Myst moving ever so slowly; Still lurking in the deep dark realm of non-light, Is that essence, again, Searching for the dim remnant of a soul’s misguided way. Ah! A feeling from someone young, As felt from earlier sense, Sitting on the curb and crying. The Myst moves about, Moving ever so lightly, and then… Touches the skin of soft cheeks, Soothing a deep set loss to heart, Darkness engulfs this young mind, Succumbs to within this young spirit, The essence moves this soul with ease, Giving hope and peace beyond appease, Showing the light, The Divine light of will, She stops crying and feels a sense of calm, Has the outlook she missed in thought, The night starts to show it is time, Time to relinquish to another realm, One of day, Bright beginnings.

Myst caressing everything with motion, But with conviction, Withdraws itself into the darkness, The night’s strength, waiting. Waiting ever so patiently for another chance, Along side an entity, To be one within the shadows, An essence of the Divine light, Looking for souls of damaged ways and hurt. Light crawls slowly across the edges of night, Darkness leaving into the realm of day, The essence still awaits though.

Even when goodness falls upon the soul, It will be in the shadows given from daylight, For all who give up their spirit to hope, Beyond the inner strengths for life’s Divine light, Fear not the darkness, For it is the way a covenant beams a brilliance To what night leaves from day’s delight.

EnchantedWords © Copyright, 1998

Through a portal of thought, a vision is seen, a truth is known, life does not appear as supposed it to be.

O' the deep sense of a heavy heart, the wariness of mind, this fleshed vessel so holding the spirit, is slowly dwindling to a nothing.

Such a pitiful existent to lived life.

Time has passed... days into nights are made of water... flowing outward from an inward galaxy, covering each person's path with clear, smooth, deliverance, of strength.

What given sense of death, becomes the beginning of life, seeking the road of a brilliant light, directed towards the truth of why, one is to be as is and not as was.

The flower breathes, expanding its textured covering, inhaling sun's ray, the tree is growing, bark has its own given life force, spreading the energy into the branches, to the tip of the last leaf above, life explodes through the tree's way of showing nature has lived and will, for the eternity and domain of dream.

Stepping goes the people, through city streets, the small town's boulevard, a one way path, each having the heart and spirit to which breeds existence, just doesn't know it to be there, yet steps on the water's smoothness of strength for realism to tied earth bound feet for soul to live.

A life... So not as supposed, it is still living a truth, of whom we so are to be, now, and will survive to be, then, in an eternity of what this dream shows, a premonition through a light of brightness, given through a dark cave of doubt, entered through the soul as a thought, in a sleeplessness of one instant to time, a gift, on how an angel tells of reality to living life.

We all should be so lucky...

EnchantedWords © Copyright, 1998

When the clock makes the tick, and strike the sound of time, it comes to end, all of the sadness and endless sight, to what the beach rolls in on each wave, the mountain's enchantment of forest, the river flowing its path of centuries, deeply felt emotions that no longer are real.

Now I can see the sea and movement it takes, look upon the tall majestic way of peaks, and feel the flowing water down a path taken, much longer than minds have existed, yet no sense can be made of it, nothing will tell me of the way life is, nature speaks and I cannot hear.

Faith... got me this far, kept my spirit towards the road, a road so long, it only begins when the ending has not stopped, the truth of pavement is as real as me, each step then becomes a chapter of minutes, to each tick, ticking, of clock.

The clock just stopped.

The world rolls no more, empty towns are shown, cites have no movement, forests, valleys, meadows, each do not give anything to show life, faith...

Takes the willing of soul beyond all of the deepened thought of despair, so far down the endless road, darkness is not seen, only felt. A magnitude of life is there, waiting... for the time to start again, for the mind to not see the falsehoods, for faith to slowly take evil and send back into the depth where only it knows how to die and sleep till again, one has no hope.

Hope... the clock begins ticking, only a momentary stop of love and hate, death and life, songs sung through the beautiful meadows to heart, angels abounding, fairies astounding, flowers making way to sun's ray, sparkling water flowing smoothly down the river's path, A light to mind has made way from the soul's prayer for truth, love...makes the real time to clock's way of life, manageable.

Sitting on the rock, overlooking a valley, then looking out to ocean, seeing all of what nature gives, can be almost overwhelming, never unbelieving, and yet could of sworn, my watched stopped.

EnchantedWords © Copyright, 1998