My Love... - Poem by Mark Heathcote
Air tastes plum sweeter in my lungs
in my mouth after a tropical storm
flowers lick deeper on yellow tongues
oil and incense are in art form..?
In the silent fluting tones of jasmine
blossoms pure as orchids open afire
as clouds recede like distant jazzmen
the seas harp goes on with its lyre
We are chained as slaves
Walking each in each owns reaches
Between the shingled footprint waves
Of times palm sandbar beaches
Oceans fissure pools of peacock green
tiger's roar idyllically entranced serene
Crescendo waterfalls foam the baths
Lead us breathless along paradise paths...
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