Free Verse # 348 (I touched her and my heart beat)

When I feel your hand in mine
I write my best poetry


I take my books with me,
at any free moment you’ll find me
sitting in a corner
or in an open field
a book in my lap
unfolding its ink,
its winged poetry.


In the heart of the night
I fashioned my heart,
a little corner
in which bosom
a sacred altar
its drifting incense
filling the whole night
with the hum
of your name.


I touched her
and my heart beat
like a song that could carry
the world on its wings


He wrote,
and his words
amid his ribs flapped,
bats flitting
from wall to wall.


When I open my diary
and read back
I find you there, everywhere,
in every smudge of ink,
in every curving breath,
and when I sift through
the unwritten pages
you are there too, everywhere,
the future ever beckoning
my heart and soul.

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