John Lars Zwerenz (1-5-69 / Kew Gardens, New York, USA)
The Billowing Reeds
The folding ivory, orphic ocean
Sobs as it rises
With shy, azure-blue, somnolent disguises,
Evoking, with its waves, an amorous emotion.
Indistinct, a billow plays
Upon the swept-back reeds,
Which makes ones dizzy,
In the late afternoon, summery haze.
Upon the sky the sunset bleeds,
With a solemn, silver majesty.
And you, beside me, naked in a bed of tall, wavering grasses
Look upon the piers of the jetty,
As the thyme-scented breeze
Sighs as it passes.
Then the evening with its mysteries
Covers like a velvet veil
The hovering, foggy stars, the moonlight, pale,
And the distant, glowing bars of campfires.
Then, rising with the warm, red wind,
Beneath the airy, green cloak of a tamarind,
Your feminine desires,
Your feminine needs,
Become one with the swallowing, hungry sea,
As you recline in the reeds,
Gazing at me.
Comments about this poem (The Billowing Reeds by John Lars Zwerenz )
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