The power of the yearn
comes thru as a soft yell
yet due to the searing burn
its not very hard to tell.
I too share the aches
when I am left right here
crave her touch's quake
her kisses sloppy smear.
I am but a mold she cast
formed in the image of desire
love vapors rise to last
she sets my soul on fire.
Del Cano 2006 June
wonderful poem!
ReplyDeleteGem :-)
Spence, your words must truly come from some wonderous plain the rest of us know not about. You are a gift to us all, coming here and finding new entries creates that feeling only a kid at Christmas time feels when there's gifts abundant under the tree. Thank you for sharing your beautiful self with us all.
ReplyDeleteOde to a Poet
ReplyDeleteHe misses her
Who brought a well
Of Dyonessian Pleasure here;
She dreams, she sleeps;
She casts a spell
Earlier upon his return
She would rush
she would burn
she would (I'm told)
in his arm unfold A form of Bliss
This poet's
sure to miss
He misses her
The trace of Love's Big Tale
Winds and draws him near
and spins a song of sleep
and long hours
he Keeps...
He misses her
***
ReplyDeleteWell Spencer,
There is quite a yean in this poem. And it really comes out strong and beautifull. ah, the image of desire can not only be seen, but felt like a fire eating away ate the never ending desire and want. Beautiful indeed. Bless Always, Rhonda
http://journals.aol.com/rhondashkfree/RiverOfDiamonds/
http://www.myspace.com/rhondasgred
***
I was going to try to write a poem about your poem but I can't stop giggling. "Kisses sloppy smear?" Well, I must say you are indeed realistic Spence! True, a yearn can be a burning experience; one must have sloppy kisses to quell the fire!!!
ReplyDeleteLovely indeed!
Dianna
Looking at your picture and loving your poetry.
ReplyDeleteMyke
Spense~I really love that photo; I wish I could enlarge it! The poem...as per usual, deeply stirring and romantic. Frustration is no fun; good thing emotions are such fleeting things...Blessings, Sass ;-)
ReplyDelete