Drops of golden ink
Fall from your quill of sacred words,
And scroll a manuscript of intrigue
Across the parchment pages
Of my velum bonded heart.
A tale of dreams to be
And promises of passion unconditional,
Pulse through this body’s veins
Like streams of molten love
To reach extremities of spirit.
It’s true the story’s plot
Is ancient as time’s rhythmic tempo,
A never ending intricacy of momentum
Yet from life’s diary of encouraging reward
I see an imminence written in the sand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem