Mark Heathcote Poems
|1.||You're not middle aged yet you think?||10/17/2012|
|2.||Your Love Is Like A Pinnacle||10/1/2012|
|4.||Your life is on a throne||6/22/2012|
|5.||Your kisses inflame my thoughts||10/18/2014|
|7.||Your Fruit Be Your Pastor||3/22/2014|
|8.||Your body is water||7/30/2014|
|9.||You'd taken control||10/3/2014|
|10.||You were only a sheep in wolf's clothing||7/14/2014|
|11.||You reap what you sow…||4/3/2014|
|12.||You read my thoughts||4/3/2014|
|13.||You nailed me||2/16/2012|
|14.||You Must Learn To Love It||7/22/2013|
|15.||You haven't lost your touch!||11/30/2014|
|16.||You have to kill me||1/18/2015|
|17.||You can walk…||12/18/2013|
|18.||You Are Our Cradle In The Water||4/13/2014|
|19.||Yin & Yang||10/26/2014|
Hewn from the strata of galaxies demure!
Inured with witchcraft; heartbreakingly, pure.
The bride wears her wedding-dress like haute-couture
Dressed in her heavenly gown made by Channel or Dior!
Poised like a vision, sumptuously, dressed and veiled.
She; supernatural swan like sailed…
Stunningly, intoxicating; like a little creature divine!
She takes up her grooms arm whispers thou, shall be mine.