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I've never been oppressed by a rose
I have never been oppressed by a rose
nor feared its thorn...
In your garden my Beloved,
I am but a thought
returning,
a waft of pleasure in your embrace
if you
should fall for the third time,
let the violet crushed
speak no riddles
to a wayward sun,
place an armful of black-eyed susans
in abstraction,
circle its motion
but do not lament the lemon tree,
my Love--
fill the pond with summer lilies,
deep and yellow
bend the amethyst thistle with reverence,
my Darling,
break open the last sand dollar and touch
its inner layer with bowed head,
let your snowflake fractals
and underwater caverns
lap my sea,
place your sky
above me.
Last few words:
A poem that's taken me 3 days to complete, been busy enjoying the Indian summer; this is one that I couldn't seem to capture until now.
~A
Editing stage:
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Comments
magics02
Mon, 2011-10-10 12:07
No fear of thorns...
I have never been oppressed by a rose
nor feared its thorn...
I am with you Anna
Tears here. It hits the heart this morning. Great words. Mona sighs.
Candlewitch
Tue, 2011-10-11 06:54
Hello Anna,
let your snowflake fractals
and underwater caverns
lap my sea,
enjoy your Indian summer while it lasts.
always, Cat
*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.
Kailashana2
Tue, 2011-10-11 09:11
Thank you all for reading and
Thank you all for reading and commenting. Poetry, that's why we write, isn't it?
"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." ~ Salman Rushdie