Ritual Romance
Cold, clear remembrance, once unbearable,
bulbed in the dark-earthed circuit of a year,
springs up to medicine maddening pain,
now not dolorous nor untreatable.Dig out from your side that shard of broad spear
and drink-up blossom honeyed after rain;
allow mercurial messengers of dream;
take up the throne of self and love and being.For through a bridge of pain the presence is
more than old disputes of the facts and fears;
the wounds we gave were all quite merciless;
those hardened attitudes dissolve in tears.And yet we cannot see how blind we are;
dark lines of fate play out so deep, so far.The Sunlight Says
The sunlight says, "Surrender!
Take that dry washing in!
These are the days
of sweet amaze;
to hell with old wounds and sin!'The sunlight sings, "Surrender!
Get that wet washing out!
Stare at these clouds;
climb up to the shrouds.
LOL! That's what it's all about!"Bright within a cloud-chaise,
I think the sun be wise.
When she's back again,
I'll from thought refrain,
and loll between her thighs...
YOU ARE READING
February And Beyond
PoetryThis ark will take me through to springtime - 'the pretty pretty ring time'.