Sylvan Hollow 2015-12-22

On Neal Schon’s ‘Blue Passion’ 

 

The swell and the tide. Fade and temper. A rising crescendo.

Strings of a dream, Forgotten and Faded, Alone and Unforgiven.

A cry and a plead Swirls and pools, Surrenders at my feet As clouds race across the sky To covet the Moon.

He brings forth a dance Of stars.

He has written Of days before.

With kisses burned Into the sun, The days fade away, Yet the poignant Sorrow…

His love and his fingers, Like strange marks of desire That call for Passion.

A calming now.

He moves within my soul, Never giving up on me.

He pulls the strings of my heart And bears himself with love.

He haunts that place. That place in a Dream.

A Blue Passion He has created, He has fulfilled.

He remembers.

Echoing.