How much can be said
in seven minutes,
under cover of blackout?
Whispers the rainfall
outside open windows,
beckoning to weary soul
Rain is the slow life,
blood to nourish the earth
and fill the limbs
Laying still, straining to catch
voices out of the mist
pattering on sills and glass
Green verge laps up the silver,
Rose hips swell with honeydew
under hands that ache with longing
It is dreamtime, a walkabout
in the outback of the heart,
'round an axis, bold as love
19 May 2011
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I thought this poem absolutely enchanting; a mystical treasure...
ReplyDeleteVery provocative, sir.
ReplyDeleteOh...and I believe it is possible to share everything in seven minutes.
The last two stanzas made me swoon.
ReplyDeleteWow!!! I'm with Tess on the last two... simply mahvelous dahling! xoxo
ReplyDeleteyes, tess nailed the feeling for sure....it is such a love story you are painting....When I first read it, it called to mind "Dancing with Tears in My Eyes" by Ultravox for some reason, but it really evolved reading it again....i imagine it is how the desert here in arizona feels (if I may anthropomorphize the LAND) when those first clouds gather, and the monsoon rains begin.
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