(no
longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from – jewel)
languishing
in language of love
the
stars above spangles on gloves
God
wears upon majestic hands
where
i am making a last stand
the
purpose of all poetry
chronicle
beauty’s history
poetry
excels in details
of
your touch that reads me like braille
God’s
taste for grace consumes your face
His
final words, “love’s not a race”
linger
with intertwined fingers
duets
require two singers
but
there’s no harm evoking charm
by
taking her within your arms
and
telling her when we began
all
these pillows and afghans
were
still in stores, our barren floors
had
everything that i cared for
i
had you i had it all
no
picture frame can quite recall
the
images of things replaced
still
here with you is saving grace
i
started with eternal bliss
that’s
only found in your sweet kiss
i
still have you i have it all
saying,
“here!” at Heaven’s roll call
***
No comments:
Post a Comment