Tuesday 21 September 2010

Wings

Wings

A sonnet of love, born on wings...
wings that flew,
drew you to me,
enfolded in a rhapsody,
a deep forest of intimacy.
We entered that gate,
of a dark fate in a distant land,
where only the bleeding ground remains,
a land with no sky,
just the crushing earth redoubled,
so when I flew, Love,
into that blue....did you go too?
or sitting on the ground,
did you forget how to fly?
Love waits for you still!
drenched in the warmth of a yellow sun,
will you fly?...will you come?
or will you bleed upon that heartless ground,
and mix your blood with the forgotten.

© Richard Michael Parker 2010 


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