Trail me away
with questions
and the weight of your love.
Abyss is not yet invented
Just seen in shadow moons…
Cast me away
with a thought
replenishing with haze
in mid mountain mornings…
I carry feelings
in my pockets
and stories of you
to guard my garden of lilies…
Every night
I wash myself of you
until another one comes written…
Reposting an old poem from 2015.
Art by John William Waterhouse.
I long for a dream,
within a dream
that clears the sight
of you.
I am asleep and asleep
I feel nothing
But the craddle of your arms
like orange snakes
thrashing fears around…
Black and white tale
Shall that be…
Every night a little dream
in the dead of sleep
in the depth of you…
………………………………..
Words spatter lights
in pools.
Do not squander their yellow glare
To guard you through winter…
Art – Ivan Volkov, Tatiana Larina’s Dream from Pushkin’s ‘Eugene Onegin’, 1891.
This is an old poem from 2015.