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Andrew Barber Poems
I am swept by visions of glory, Given to flame and burnt to the soul. Of touching bonds in raging fury, For I am half and we are whole.
Oh the light through cloud doth wither, Upon these tears this shadow clings. Yet moon in shine with silver slither, Your hope my sword, your love my wings.
Upon thy lips a word does whisper, Upon its sound, the breeze will hang And to its meaning, a kiss shall muster And to my ears, its meaning sang
When shadow casts and time seems long, When all seems lost and hope has gone. I think of thee and words now said, Your voice, your lines, the path we tread.
Lady of the Fen
By spring in rise from slumber long, She smiles with light and morning song. In fertile bloom as colours burst, Her gentle arms, embrace while nurse.
Comments about Andrew Barber
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
I am swept by visions of glory,
Given to flame and burnt to the soul.
Of touching bonds in raging fury,
For I am half and we are whole.
I am swept by touch so gentle,
Beneath the silk in passions hold.
In crash of lace and cast of cotton,
Beyond the lines of thread and fold.
I am swept by taste with hunger,
Moving now with brush and blow.
Caress in strokes so endless sweeping,
As carnal needs in tide do flow.
I am swept by scent, your essence,
Arousing breathless, this stirring swelled.
Pulling now in heave with fervour,
In ebb ...