You are a sweet wind, that cries foul
and whips the tempests woe into a brewing cauldron.
So long the sorrow has gripped your heart
tightening itself around all those dreams
the flight of remembrance.
...Sweet was that mothers milk
the succour of our first smarting.
the dear and the dead, departing.
'So long' tomorrow,
the sullen shadow of forlorn sorrow.
We only borrow time, Today.
Time enough to find a friend
a Lover, a moment in which to live again
to Build a world around a seed
a tree inside a garden.
How sweet the fruit that falls
nurtured, blown by your wind
within these walls.
I have seen your pools overwhelmed,
splashing upon a heartless ground
filled with remorse,
a cascade of remembrance.
Floods of memories
issuing back from the eyes
that once perceived them,
Back into the ground.
The ground where you now bleed.
These reminiscent sounds,
raindrops between the thunder
As you slip again, slowly,
and go under.
I reach beneath your waves
to find your delicate wrists
deeply locked, drawn upon your eyes
swept into a tumult
beneath these brewing skies.
that swims this tremulous sea,
these evanescent waters between you and me,
beats in time, upon your own, within a kiss
the ebb and flow,
upon the tides of our luscious lips
locked in bliss.
If my love be worthy
of that faint petal lipped kiss;
Then sup upon a stream of honeyed dreams,
a sweet succour of mellifluous schemes,
and trouble no more the raindrops.
For they have tears,
of sorrow filled years, to wash away,
to sweep into a stream, of oblivion,
unto a sea of sweet tomorrows,
the yearning hearts of endless sorrows.
You are the breath upon my peaks
wind waves that gently lap upon the depths
kissed by sunlight's warmth i evanesce.
For you, my airy Queen,
shall weep no more,
for want of loves resplendent shore.
You are a sweet wind, my love,
and i will lap beneath your whispering breath,
together, unto death.
© Richard Michael Parker 2010