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vaneramosHe is lucid as heaven
bright as fireflies
his tongue a lyrical thread
his mind a symphony
With arms like the hills
he holds me between them
near the garden
a smooth rock in the sun
his breath fragrant
with black locust blossoms
He guides like a river
with the strength of torrential rain
his hips are the earth quaking
the rhythm of time
My memory of him
is a firebrand
a tiger in the shadows
I am alone in the rainforest
desire dripping from leaves
in the night
His eye is the full moon
striking suddenly
with poison paralyzing
This was written today at The Bookshelf. After a couple glasses of red wine I like it. Later, I'll probably regret posting such a jumble of metaphors.
Just now I noticed the unintentional reference to a William Blake poem in the fourth stanza. Do you see it? I like that, too, partly because it arose from my subconsious, cryptically. It helped me choose the title.
bright as fireflies
his tongue a lyrical thread
his mind a symphony
With arms like the hills
he holds me between them
near the garden
a smooth rock in the sun
his breath fragrant
with black locust blossoms
He guides like a river
with the strength of torrential rain
his hips are the earth quaking
the rhythm of time
My memory of him
is a firebrand
a tiger in the shadows
I am alone in the rainforest
desire dripping from leaves
in the night
His eye is the full moon
striking suddenly
with poison paralyzing
This was written today at The Bookshelf. After a couple glasses of red wine I like it. Later, I'll probably regret posting such a jumble of metaphors.
Just now I noticed the unintentional reference to a William Blake poem in the fourth stanza. Do you see it? I like that, too, partly because it arose from my subconsious, cryptically. It helped me choose the title.
