Oh grant me, God, the wish to persevere,
to dwell within the words as in a sea,
as syllables to taste, to smell, to hear,
and feast old eyes upon the sweetest harmony.
Each child to take a place to serve and please
between steep walls of my rotunda where I preach
to playful buzzing and the never-parted knees.
Meanwhile Priapus lusts for heavy cream and peach
while in the twilight, as he drums onto her back
precise hexameters with fingers drunk from joy,
for all his writings breathing aphrodisiac......
ascends Mount Pubis as a poet and a boy.
I see Greek statues, perfect images of perfect bodies caught with grace and light, when I read your words. Intoxicating sweetness with just a touch of ennui. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Wicked again, 'precise hexameters with fingers drunk from joy' great line Cheers Anita
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A smile creeps onto my face. t x