Free Verse # 222 (midnight circle)

Like dewdrops happen
In the womb of the parched earth –
She happened in me.

~

Midnight circle –
the full moon vanishing
in the well of her eyes.

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Dreams steeped in the mists of longing.

~

Ripe and dark
My poem is a fig
Hungering to break
On the fullness of her lips

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My poem
Like a seabreeze
In her hair dances,
Whispers
Against her bare skin.

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Her love
Runs deeper in me
Than life itself.
This body
Shall one day die;
My love for her
Shall remain,
as the sea, as the sky,
Forever…

~

Gratitude is an opening of the heart that paints the world white.

The Offering

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I knew what it meant
the apple she offered me,
and still I bit;
I bit, looking her in the eyes,
and I will bite, again and again.
I bit and the shared sin laced us,
in the infinite well of knowing bound us,
one flesh, one soul, one longing,
together, in time’s eternal grasp.

And then came the wings of God
blanketing us with a laughter so white,
with a warmth so deep
that all awareness from our minds was shed
and what remained was a single heart
in His Heart, throbbing.

Free Verse # 117 (home)

All the poetry our hearts bled
we shall one day bring with us
as we travel to the forest deep,
red twigs and leaves
with which we would weave
our forever home,
a beating heart,
a warm, loving nest.

~

When your love stepped into me
my body fell like a morning breeze
drunk on the fragrance of your rising sun,
then it rose to blow eastward,
forever inhabiting the edge of your dawn.

~

No feeling I want more
than the feeling which is denied to me,
home, the touch of your hand…

~

This burning house,
let it fall over our heads,
exhale us into the sky.

Free Verse # 83

Under the rain of my kisses
your frown unfolds
into a field of flowers,
your vinegar becomes honey,
your water, wine.

~

In times of peace,
in times of war,
our bed is a home
where love unfolds.

~

I be your bed,
cradling your soul and body
as they slip between the stars.

~

You walk into me and I walk
into the heart of spring.

~

Thirst brings me closer to your watery lips;
hunger, to the banquet of your breasts;
the cold, to the warmth of your breath;
and the pain, to your fingers’ healing touch.