Free Verse # 394 (a bag of poetry)

Wanderer
chasing flowers
fallen from her hair,
on the pathways of the world
traveling
carrying nothing
but a bag of poetry.

~

A woman who can grant me
the love I always longed for,
between us the silence
of the poem-sky.

~

Summer in a vineyard…
grape by grape
from her skin falling,
a wine burning velvet
in the cup of poetry.

~

batroun-february-03-2017
Batroun, February 03, 2017

Shriveled kisses
in the midst of winter…
figs clinging still
to the promise of the sky

~

Writing always follows
a sacred ritual,
her fragrance burning
along the edge of the pen.

~

Poetry is always a companionship, an intimacy between two beings.

~

Humans are doorways opening unto little ponds or great oceans, water bodies as small or as great as the deeps of our longing, the rootedness of our understanding and love.

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