Mark Heathcote Poems

Love you've got beauty
In abundance oh so rare
It's wild and it's-earthly
-golden as buttercups in your hair
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Your eyes are emeralds
Soaking up stars in space
Between us; taking me
Higher than the stars
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She takes her broom to wildly sweep.
Keeps an occasional eye on the sky.
We take a personal look at her dust heap.
She remains dauntless, shy, and spry.
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I've got my hair up in her hairstyle
In a bun, Amy Winehouse I'll to beguile
With a Pinks swing out; trapeze style
I'll live my life hard, treat all men vile.
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Image His breath over your shoulder - directly
Could that be why your bloodshot eyes weep profoundly?
Softly with indignation - then you are blessed.
Soon your heart - tender-dark will wake from its lurid
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Daylight fevers under cold sheets
Where sleep is like a pilot-light
Hoping it never meets the night
Never blinks at its dead defeats.
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She carried those scars in her fractured skull
praying to God makes him change his ways,
she'd pray simultaneously for the improbable,
pray for freedom, and that of her family always.
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Yours and…
Heaven's fate nobody knows
Its beauty is like a purple
Damask clustered rose
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Snow-kisses-pine needle against bare skin.
Chilled champagne tingling's bubbling,
Immerse voiceless, deep murmurings within.
Warmth massages in the snowdrops'
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Lust sends the heart racing one way and then another.
Real love is a stone ripple, stinking ever deeper.
Permeating its reach further and further still.
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