My Beloved… Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I speak from experience here is my bread
Tongues of the dew I slit to the being
My heart long-bearded silences now are dead
Without that virtue upheld into there seeing
Waters of a diamond explode the stars
The light with one bold of your lightening
Each thick shadowed night in minim pulsar
That comes into darkness brightening

My trouble is doubly painful it must lead
Recreations life sometimes yielding
Perhaps I shall get better, perhaps not
It's not easy to hear nothing I read
To give textures - passionate wielding
Bring above motivations - a free thought!