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Poet Keith Horton


A Poet's Ode to Love


There will never come a day
when there are enough love poems.
Not as long as ebony sky is kissed to life
by the stutter of a million stars,
and you are here with me
to drink their light
on the dampened lawn
of August nights.

There will never come a day
when there are enough love poems.
Not as long as prayers are cast
to hushed, nocturnal winds,
with hopes that they’ll prepare
a place for us in heaven,
as ancestors await
the scent of our collision.

And if the day should come when I no longer find comfort
swaddled in the color of your kiss,
or fail to feel the fire, buried in the light
of your Taino eyes
or cease to sample the sweetness
I have come to know, in the taste of your sweat,
still, I will write about love-
lost, blue and cruel in its departure.

And if summer should bow
to the taste of death brought on by autumn;
if the sting of thirsty, hovering bees
numb our dreams
with temptation’s venom,
I will write of love’s disloyalty;
Its dark and cold indifference
well into the night’s final hour.

But there will never come a time
when there are enough love poems.
Not as long as stars shine
and grass grows
and summer answers the call
of winter-drenched souls,
warmed by the hopeful breath
of August nights.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 02, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013

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