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(22/03/66 / Manchester)

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Silver birches

A crack of light
Like a silver birch
In the night
Holds its spell over me
It’s like looking into a well
Knowing – tranquillity exists
In completeness,
No matter how dark – this…
Circle is,
I know there’s a light in my soul.
Willing to confess there is - love
In this wilderness—
Beneath blue moon creeper’s
I know I’m falling in love - again.
With scorpion wasp-sting-kisses - a wine
You can only swallow deep
Like the heady night of darkness.
Crackling with light
Like those silver birches
In the night
Holding their spells over me
My attention is a nest of vipers
As those leaves of her catkin kisses
Her sickle moonlit limbs,
Take little bites of my solitary, melancholy.
Breaking off silver-breaths of dragons
That sealed their hearts wishes
With a wreath of purple violet, flowers.
It’s like looking into a well
Knowing – tranquillity exists
In completeness,
No matter how dark – this…
Circle is,
I know there’s a light in my soul.
Willing to confess there is - love
In this wilderness!

Submitted: Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013


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Comments about this poem (A Copious Amount Of Love by Mark Heathcote )

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  • Gajanan Mishra (7/23/2013 10:47:00 PM)

    there is love in this wilderness, I like it, thanks.
    I invite you to read my poems and comment.

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